De-Tached: Story 4: Life with Beverly:You Really Shouldn't Have Said
by mabb5
Summary: Beverly is 7 months pregnant, and surrounded by men who keep saying the wrong thing to her. Matters aren't helped by the fact that Lwaxana is hosting the baby shower. And Jean-Luc is trying not to be clueless about Beverly's pregnancy in spite of their psychic connection.
1. Chapter 1: You Really Shouldn't Have

_**A.N.: In order not to be completely confused about how things have come to this point, it is advisable that you read the novel "Attached Meant" and its sequels, "De-Tached: Story One, Story Two and Story Three: Life With Beverly".**_

_**Of course, if you'd rather just go with the flow without reading my earlier efforts, that's okay too. The situation isn't that difficult to understand. **_

_**Synopsis: Jean-Luc and Beverly are happily married and living in the house that he'd inherited from his Aunt Adele in San Francisco. Picard is the Superintendent of Starfleet Academy now. Beverly was the temporary head of Starfleet Medical, though by order of the head of Starfleet - Fleet Admiral Winston Holt Wiley - she's now the admiral in charge of creating the Federation's new Hospital Fleet. Oh, and Beverly is pregnant. And thanks to an aftereffect of their psychic bond from the KesPrytt incident, Jean-Luc can feel everything that Beverly feels during their pregnancy including morning sickness. Because Beverly sensed that her unborn twins were psychically 'different', she asked Deanna for help. Deanna sent Lwaxana who has now moved in - temporarily - with the Picards. Guinan shows up too, to be a temporary nanny. Both ladies are going to teach Jean-Luc and Beverly how to deal with or communicate with their twins, in utero. Also, Lwaxana is still romancing the head of Starfleet, much to Jean-Luc's dismay. Jean-Luc and Beverly are going to LaBarre to spend Christmas with Marie and Robert. Christmas Eve at LaBarre was everything that Christmas Eve should be. Christmas Day however, was when the Admirals Picard were throwing their open house back at the San Franciscan home. Since it was an open house, everybody came. Including Klingons, Bolians, Andorians and Orions. Not to mention the cadets. The party started well but ended in an Orion aphrodisiac infused debacle. To recuperate, Beverly and Marie and their spouses went shopping in Paris. And then spent New Year's Eve in LaBarre.**_

_**All of this is set in an alternate universe that takes place immediately after the episode "Attached". Therefore, nothing that happened after "Attached" exists in this a/u. Riker is now captain of the Enterprise. Captain Dr. Kate Pulaski is Riker's CMO. Robert and Rene are alive. Admiral Nechayev is a good guy, Etc.**_

_**All the usual disclaimers apply. STAR TREK is Paramount's property. But it is fandom's playground.**_

_**This author would greatly appreciate any reviews or comments.**_

_**De-Tached: Story 4: Life with Beverly**_

_**Chapter 1: You Really Shouldn't Have Said That…**_

"What did you say?" Beverly Howard Crusher Picard glanced over at her personal assistant. Suddenly she felt the floor plates tremble beneath her feet and then she felt a forward movement. She checked. Her shuttlecraft was taking off from Burroughs City. She automatically double checked to make sure that everything was in order. And it was. But she hadn't forgotten what had been said. She returned her beady eyed stare to her still imperturbable adjutant. He didn't blink. For Beverly had not quite caught what she had thought that she had heard, those words that her universal translator had translated from the Vulcan's under-his-breath mutterings. She warily eyed her Vulcan, Lieutenant Commander S'Rock. "Did you just call me a waddling duckling under your breath? Or was it a waddling goatling?"

Lieutenant Commander S'Rock nobly refrained from picking one. (Though to be perfectly truthful, he had muttered under his breath that her very, very pregnant admiral's gait could be compared to that of the Vulcan version of a pregnant Empress Penguin as she waddled.) Instead, he ever-so-politely replied, "I believe you are mistaken, Admiral Picard. I was merely repeating a meditative phrase."

She didn't believe him for a second. Ever since Lieutenant Commander S'Rock had joined her when she'd assumed command as the Senior Rear Admiral of the Federation Hospital Starship Project, she had slowly come to realize that not only did this Vulcan have a very deep and sly sense of humor, but that Mildred's silent warfare and one-up-man-ship campaign against this particular Vulcan was thoroughly justified.

"There's a Vulcan meditative phrase that includes the word _waddling? _I am not familiar with it."

"I am sure that I can find one if you insist, Admiral," S'Rock calmly responded.

"Just you wait until your wife starts _'showing'_, Commander. I look forward to seeing her response when you call her _waddling." _A few weeks earlier, the commander's wife, Ensign Cherry Ames S'Rock, had been diagnosed as pregnant.

"In regards to she who is my spouse, I sincerely doubt that I will ever be so foolish as to say such a word aloud, in her presence." With that remark, S'Rock began moving about the shuttlecraft cabin to make sure that everything that could be done had been done to ensure the Admiral's comfort and welfare.

Beverly reclined into her seat and brought up the footrest. At seven months pregnant, but actually looking like she'd been overdue to give birth for more than a year, Beverly would take her comfort wherever she could find it.

They were on their way back from Mars where she'd been inspecting the hospital and triage ships that were being built at Utopia Planetia. While on Mars, she'd deliberately stayed in Martian gravity quarters instead of the newer, artificial Earth gravity quarters, since Martian gravity was more than one third lighter than Earth's gravity. And when you're carrying twins, and looking like a pregnant hippopotamus, anything that could ease the aches and pains of pregnancy was to be devoutly sought after.

Beverly rested her eyes for a few minutes. And then she felt strong fingers firmly removing her boots.

"No, S'Rock. If you take them off, I won't be able to get them back on," she protested.

"I have packed your slippers. And if you wish, when we get to San Francisco, we will land at Picard House." He stood and put away her boots in a duffel bag. Then he turned and eyed the admiral's ankles.

Beverly automatically adjusted the foot rest so that her feet were elevated above her reclining body without even having to be told to do so.

"Is this to be expected?" S'Rock nodded toward her swollen ankles.

If Beverly didn't know better, she'd accuse S'Rock of channeling Jean-Luc. "No. This is not normal swelling. But it's not that far outside of the normal range, and since I was on my feet most of yesterday, as well as this morning, it is not that unexpected."

As she watched S'Rock type on his padd she idly wondered just exactly which person he was contacting first - her husband or her doctor. She didn't doubt that a minute from now, both would have received messages from her adjutant.

"We are two hours and forty-three minutes from Earth orbit," S'Rock announced. "May I suggest that the Admiral rest? There is nothing pressing on your schedule for the rest of the day."

"And my messages?" She rested her eyes.

"Nothing of importance from the admiralty. I can deal with them in the morning."

"What about my husband? I have yet to hear from him today." She knew he was resting through their psychic link.

"He has yet to contact you. I believe that there is the possibility that he is recuperating."

Beverly opened her eyes. "_Recuperating? From what?"_

"Admiral Winston Holt Wiley held an admiral's round-up poker game last night."

"No doubt it was held at Picard House…," Beverly grumbled.

"Admiral, if you are not careful, Admiral Winston Holt Wiley may declare your home to be his permanent residence. He seems to be spending a sufficient amount of time there to claim your address as his legal residence."

"Well, I suppose I cannot totally blame the man. After all, Lwaxana is redecorating Holt's mansion." Beverly closed her eyes again.

S'Rock could only mentally shudder at the thought of Lwaxana Troi Wiley redecorating _anything_.

"I suppose it would have been too much to have asked Robert to host the poker party, especially after what happened during Lwaxana and Holt's wedding party." Beverly shook her head remembering. The wedding banquet had been held at Picard House. But somehow, the madcap revelry that one came to expect from any party that had wine and Lwaxana in attendance at the same time, ended up transporting afterwards over to Château Picard. Beverly still hadn't figured out that sequence of events and how they had come about. She was only grateful that Lwaxana's wedding party had not been quite as riotous as the Picard Christmas Day party. Though judging by how Robert blustered and complained mightily afterwards, it most definitely was the wildest party that the ancestral Picard home had seen for many a century.

S'Rock knelt before Beverly, draped a light blanket over her legs, and started massaging her ankles.

She raised herself up on one elbow. "S'Rock… Don't…"

"Is not a foot massage part of the recommended treatment for swollen ankles, Doctor?"

He had her there. She fell back against the beige cushions of her seat. For even if it wasn't officially recommended, right now, what he was doing to her feet bordered on the sinful. _It felt so good…_

"Commander, where did you learn how to massage feet so well…," she sighed. "You should give Jean-Luc some lessons…"

"Vulcan Physiognomy Academy." he dutifully answered. "I have also studied Chinese micro-system reflexology techniques as well. When the time approaches, if necessary, I am skilled in the art of foot massages to induce labor."

Beverly considered this statement. "I am not even going to ask why you know how to do that." She decided to rest her eyes again.

What seemed to Beverly like only a few moments later, but in real time was actually more than two hours later, Commander S'Rock awakened her.

"We will be landing at your front courtyard," S'Rock announced as he collected the admiral's tote bags, and luggage. He offered the lady her slippers. "Admiral Jean-Luc Picard awaits."

"Hung over?" Beverly was curious.

"My brief conversation with Admiral Picard did not indicate that he was suffering from such a condition."

Beverly only harrumphed. "Good. Then I can harangue him about not being invited to the admiral's round-up. Last time I checked my collar, I'm still an admiral, for heaven's sake!"

"I believe it was Mrs. Krebs who advised the admirals against extending an invitation to you since you were on Mars. Mrs. Krebs did not wish for you to incur the stresses of trying to accomplish everything at the UP in haste in order to return to Earth in time to attend the party." Since this seemed eminently logical, Commander S'Rock considered the matter to be closed. He checked his padd and then inspected his superior officer one more time. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Admiral Picard?"

Beverly eyed her Vulcan as she took this statement at face value. She was well aware of the ongoing battle between S'Rock and Mrs. Krebs. The Picards and their staffs were permitted to be amused bystanders. But now was not the time to delve into that mystery.

"Can you tell me _when_ Mrs. Krebs will be throwing my surprise baby shower?"

"I believe it is scheduled for 1300 hours, next Sunday afternoon," S'Rock promptly answered. "How did you know that Mrs. Krebs is throwing you such a party?"

"The surprise isn't that Mildred has been plotting such a party, S'Rock. The true _surprise_ is who Mildred strong-armed into officially hosting it - and where." Beverly shuddered for a second. "Please tell me that is wasn't Marie."

"It was not the Comtesse d'Holl," S'Rock dutifully replied.

Beverly waited a moment. "Well, give. Who, then?"

"My wife volunteered to co-host."

Beverly just knew that there had to be a reason as to why S'Rock was stalling. "Tell Cherry that I appreciate her kindness." She firmly eyed her adjutant even as she stood and stepped into her slippers. "Who's the other co-conspirator? Or co-_conspirators?"_

"It might be advisable for you to sit down again," S'Rock suggested.

"Oh, no…," Beverly groaned as she complied. "Guinan?" S'Rock slightly nodded. Then she thought of something else, "Lwaxana?" S'Rock nodded more vigorously. "Oh, for the days when I had hoped that it would be only Deanna…" She gathered up her strength to ask the next most important question. "Where?"

"If the house is sufficiently _decorated_, it will be at Admiral Winston Holt Wiley's residence. Otherwise, it will be held at the Betazed Embassy."

Beverly thought about all of the possible difficulties that either place could bring. "Why do I get the feeling that I will be volunteering Picard House when push comes to shove?"

"Though I do not quite comprehend that idiomatic imagery, I would imagine that it is best to be prepared for such an occurrence."

"I am sure that Mildred has already done so…" Beverly decided to change the subject. "Commander, when we are not in a formal situation or on duty, please call me by my first name. Mildred does so."

"I do not feel that I know you well enough to do so, Admiral Picard."

Beverly glared at him. "You just gave me the best foot massage that I've ever experienced. I would say that you know me personally well enough by now if you have learned my pleasure pressure points."

"I will consider yours words and discuss them with she who is my wife. In this matter, I will follow her guidance."

"Cherry is a very lucky lady," Beverly softly whispered, even as she looked out the window to see just how close they were to landing.

Even as she espied her beloved, she also noticed that standing next to him was her personal physician, Dr. Norah Bolt. They both looked greatly concerned.

"Commander…," she growled, revealing her exasperation with him as well as with her mother-henning husband, "… just exactly _how_ did you phrase your sub-space message to them?"

**=/\= ='/\'= =/\=**

After Dr. Bolt had thoroughly checked Beverly out - not that Beverly had not already done so herself - she ordered Beverly to spend the rest of the afternoon, resting. Or, at least reclining on a chaise lounge with her feet above her head, resting on multiple pillows. She also gave Beverly a hypospray to take care of her swelling feet.

Jean-Luc fussed about her. Beverly was reclining in their library, by the fireplace, with her feet duly raised. She eyed the Sarouk oriental rug on the floor, and sighed, remembering in the not-too-distant past when Jean-Luc would have rolled up that rug, moved the sofa and the lounge, and then they would have spent a morning or an evening in passionate dancing lessons.

In spite of the fact that they were still empathically connected thanks to the KesPrytt, it took Jean-Luc a while to recognize that Beverly was getting annoyed with his actions.

Mid fluffing a pillow, Jean-Luc stopped, as he finally sensed that the legendary Howard temper might rear its head.

"You want me to stop fussing, don't you, _mon coeur?"_

"My darling, would you?" The very way she over-enunciated each syllable was sufficient incentive for Jean-Luc to drop the pillow.


	2. Chapter 2: A Whale of a tale

_**De-Tached: Story 4: Life with Beverly**_

_**Chapter 2: A Whale of a Tale…**_

"What did you say?" Beverly was trying very hard not to laugh too hard. Heartily laughing whilst seven months pregnant had an unpleasant incontinent side effect that she sought to avoid when she could.

"Why Beverly, you of all people should know that I responded as the perfect gentleman and officer that I always am," Jean-Luc cheekily replied, clearly delighted that he was having a chance to be alone with his wife, if only just to converse with her; to make her laugh. Even though she had only been gone a week to Mars, he had missed her so very much. And sub-space messages were a poor substitute for a real, intimate conversation with his bride.

He was seated at the edge of the slate gray upholstered chaise lounge upon which Beverly was reclined, rubbing her feet, and telling her a few tales from the prior night's poker game.

"Do you know how difficult it is to give Lwaxana a lesson in poker when her husband is the head of Starfleet? I had visions of being reassigned to the embassy on Ferenginar posthaste if I didn't chose my words with great precision." He shook his head. "I think that even Holt was afraid to contradict Lwaxana and tell her that three queens do not beat three kings."

"So what did you do?"

"What else could I do? I shoved the pot toward her." He laughed at Beverly's expression. "It was the lesser of two evils - I think."

"Jean-Luc, you have just granted Lwaxana permission in perpetuity, to pull this same stunt at every future poker game."

"I know. However, I will make sure that Mr. Data will be at the next poker game in which Lwaxana plays. I'd like to see her argue the matter with him." He noted a particularly devilish gleam in his wife's eye.

"Lwaxana will win. Mr. Data is no match for the lady. Besides, I like the idea of _Lwaxana's rules_. I think that I'll invoke them the next time when it is appropriate. And when I have a handful of queens." She wiggled her toes a little closer to his thighs. "After all, as my husband, you'd better be willing to grant to me that which you let Lwaxana get away with..." She suddenly stopped wiggling. "Data's coming to play poker? When?"

"It will be rather soon," Jean-Luc added, even as he tried not to agree with his wife - or notice what she was doing or trying to do, with her toes. "The _Enterprise_ is arriving at the UP two days from now for some overdue retrofitting on the engine core. Captain Riker and company should be here for at least two weeks though I doubt if we'll see much of Geordi..."

"Just in time for my baby shower," Beverly delightedly observed.

"_Baby shower_?" He was pretending that he did not know of the plans that Mildred and company had made for Mildred had sworn him to secrecy with some very dire threats indeed. And he'd conspired with Will Riker to arrange the retrofitting so that the _Enterprise_ would be nearby when the party occurred.

"Do you wish to come, Jean-Luc?" Her question sounded innocent.

Suddenly he felt lost in the stars. On one hand, Beverly was inviting him to an event that under any other circumstance, if it were not for his wife, he would never ever dream of attending. The thought of being a lone male in a room full of women talking about babies and birthing, etc., was almost enough to invoke thoughts about discretion being the better part of valor. "I, uh…"

She patted his arm. "That's all right, darling. You don't have to be there, Jean-Luc. Lwaxana and Guinan and Cherry are hosting it."

"Perhaps I'd better come, if only to protect you from them."

"From what?" a voice called out from the doorway. There was more than a dollop of sarcasm to the question. Guinan slowly walked into the room pushing a laden tea cart in front of her. Her dignified amber robes flapped about her ankles as she ambled slowly toward the chaise lounge.

At first, Jean-Luc only noticed Guinan's outfit. It was one of the most conservative dresses that he had ever seen her wear. And then Jean-Luc noticed and then grimaced when he counted how many tea cups were on the cart, along with tempting looking trays of fruit and cheese and pastries.

Guinan knew what he was thinking even though she chose to be obtuse. "Ludvig thought that Beverly might be hungry," she remarked even as she observed Beverly hungrily eyeing the chocolate goodies.

"Why so many cups?" Jean-Luc was not pleased with the thought that others would be intruding upon his quiet time with Beverly.

Beverly picked up a miniature raspberry custard tart and demolished it.

Guinan didn't have to answer him for the explanations walked into the library.

"Yahoo!" Lwaxana shouted out, waving a hand oblivious to the rippling movements of her orange and purple fluttering sleeve as she paused in the doorway for a pose. Trailing in her wake was her bridegroom - Winston Holt Wiley. He had a resigned look on his face. It was a look that the many men in Lwaxana's life often had.

"_Yoo_-hoo," Guinan automatically corrected, even knowing that the lady would not pay attention to her advisement. Guinan wheeled the cart to a position directly in front of Beverly. She softly stated, "Ludvig didn't want you straining to lift a heavy, full teapot, so he dug out the tea urn. You just need to tilt it."

"Why don't you pour, Guinan?"

"It is not my place to do so, Beverly." She glanced over at Lwaxana and Holt who were making themselves at home on the couch. She leaned forward and whispered, "If you give _that_ one an inch…"

"…she'll conquer the planet," Beverly acknowledged. She sat up on the chaise lounge, swinging her feet to the floor, to make room for Guinan to join her.

"Tea?" Beverly politely enquired of Lwaxana as the woman took up more than half of the couch with her voluminous bronze colored dress.

Lwaxana waved her hand in some sort of pattern. Jean-Luc privately thought that the woman just liked to see her clothing _flutter._ It was the only reasonable explanation as to why the woman was constantly waving her hands about.

Lwaxana ignored what she was sensing from Jean-Luc. Her focus was on the mother-to-be of her godchildren. "Beverly, dear, you know how I like my tea."

Holt stood. "I know where you keep your secret stash, Jean-Luc," the head of Starfleet announced as he walked over to the bookcase opposite of the fireplace and tapped a decorative quatrefoil inset into a carved wood side panel. The panel popped up and several old glass bottles of liquor slid forward on a tray.

Jean-Luc Picard's eyes widened. _He hadn't known that this panel and its secret stash, was there…_ Then he eyed the bottle that Holt was holding. His eyes widened some more. It was a Picard _Fine de la Marne _brandy_. And it was over 100 years old. _The thought of a brandy that rare being mixed with Earl Grey tea was as a sacrilege to him in regards to both the tea and the liquor.

Lwaxana's eyes widened too as she caught the drift of Jean-Luc's thoughts. "You're right, Jean-Luc." She turned toward Beverly. "Forget the tea, dear. I'll drink my brandy untainted."

The sad thing was that Beverly was not surprised by this statement at all. Resentment reared its ugly head as she realized that she couldn't take a sip of this rare brandy at this late a date in her pregnancy, even as she longingly eyed the bottle. She'd only heard about this legendary brandy from Robert at Christmastime. And her brother-in-law had not procured any at all because of her condition. _She decided that she was getting heartily sick of bossy Picard men…_

Jean-Luc wisely realized that he didn't dare ask for some of the brandy for himself considering Beverly's sudden mood change, though he had not tasted such a rare offering in a very long time. He wondered if there would be anything left to the bottle after Lwaxana got done with it. He mentally groaned as he realized the likelihood of _that_ happening.

"Jean-Luc, if you don't want me to drink your precious brandy, well, just say so!" Lwaxana tartly declared - out loud.

"I think that I will have some tea." Jean-Luc over-enunciated every single syllable even as he pulled a Chippendale style side chair over to the chaise lounge and sat down next to his wife. He was finding it difficult at the moment, to not say aloud what he really, really wanted to say to Madam Lwaxana Troi-Wiley.

Holt just stood between them wondering what he should do with the bottle. He could barter a peace for the Federation between warring planets with the best of them. And he had, countless legendary times. But when it came to practicing diplomacy for and with his wife, well, that was another matter entirely.

Jean-Luc noticed Holt's predicament.

"Lwaxana, you know that as a guest in my house, I would not dream of denying you any request." His irritation began to burble forth, even as he tried to contain his resentment. He rose to his feet and removed the bottle from Holt's unsteady grasp, and handed it over to Lwaxana. But his ranting wasn't finished. "So, _if you __**must**__ drink an entire bottle of brandy before dinner, then by all means_, _**do so**_. Though you will have to forgive me _if I refuse to partake in your next drunken food fight!_" With those words he abruptly sat down. _The snit that he had internalized months ago had just burst forth out into the open._

All Beverly could do was agree with her husband. Not that she was that surprised by his sudden outburst. She knew that the aftereffects of the Christmas party incident had been smoldering inside of Jean-Luc's innate sense of justice and decorum for quite a while.

Admiral Winston Holt Wiley was not that surprised at Jean-Luc's unexpected over-reaction. either. Holt just stood there in the middle between them. He wasn't quite sure what he should do next. Holt still had a little bit of a conscience left in his soul. For he really did feel a bit guilty about what had happened. Picard had never once demanded retribution or said anything critical about his behavior with Lwaxana after the disastrous Christmas party until now. _Though Jean-Luc would have been thoroughly justified… For Holt was well aware how over-the-top his behavior and Lwaxana's behavior had been that night…_

Jean-Luc instantly felt embarrassed that he had actually said out loud the angry words that he had been repressing for quite a few months. _He never liked losing his equilibrium…_

Lwaxana huffed. Those were the only words that could describe the lady's state: she huffed. _Imperially._

Jean-Luc slowly stood again, to ruefully apologize to the Wileys for his words, when Lwaxana started to laugh. And laugh. She burbled. Then Lwaxana gracefully rose, and moved over to Jean-Luc and kissed his cheek, patting his chest for a moment too. She was aware that she had pushed this man too far. Then she stepped back, knowingly grinned down at Beverly, and dramatically proclaimed, "Jean-Luc, I do formally apologize. And you know how ofter you hear those words coming out of my mouth." She bestowed upon Beverly her most remorseful expression. "My dear Beverly, I do apologize. I never intended to turn your lovely party into such a messy..._mess_. My only excuse, and it is a poor one at best, is that _I was in love._ And I've never been on my best behavior when I am in in love…" Her melodramatic sigh was one of the long-suffering. "Just ask my daughter…"

Picard idly wondered if that statement meant that Lwaxana had _been in love_ for all of her life. That would explain a lot.

Lwaxana glared at her husband. Holt cleared his throat. As the Fleet Admiral, he was not used to being personally nervous around subordinates, even if they were his hosts and friends. He usually had his underlings do the apologizing for him the very rare and few times it had been necessary to do so. But this incident was different. It was a matter of belated honor between friends. "I, uh, er, uh, apologize for my behavior too, Jean-Luc. And Beverly." He rushed the words.

Even Beverly could tell that the head of Starfleet was somewhat rusty when it came to apologizing.

"There's a Benzadite pig flying about some where…," Guinan muttered under her breath, even as she stood and went to the cellarette and returned with four glasses. "That brandy's too good to be drunk out of a tea cup," she announced.

She patted Beverly's shoulder after she'd passed out the crystal brandy balloon glasses. Then she poured a hot cup of tea and placed it into Beverly's hands. "I'll make sure that we save some for you to celebrate with after the twins are born, Beverly." She patted Beverly's cheek.

"Thank you," Beverly meekly answered as she was torn between laughing or crying over everything. So she sipped her tea instead.

Jean-Luc place his brandy on the mantel and sat next to Beverly, embracing her. For a moment he rubbed her shoulders, feeling her relax a little bit. And then he concernedly asked, "Do you wish to rest, _mon coeur?"_

Beverly blanched at the thought of climbing up the wrought iron circular staircase. She didn't consider the transporter since even though the medical establishment considered transporting to be safe for a pregnant woman in her last trimester, Beverly herself had some concerns and saw no reason to take the chance when it was not absolutely necessary. And then she considered the long walk down the halls to get to the elevator. For she definitely wasn't up to climbing the stairs today. She was tired. And she didn't quite know how to answer her husband.

It was Lwaxana who placed her goblet and the brandy bottle on the tea cart. She went and picked up a quilt off another armchair, placed it on top of Beverly's legs and shooshed Jean-Luc away. "We will all retreat to the dining room so that my favorite expectant lady can nap in peace here by the fire. We'll leave the tea and cakes in stasis, just in case you want some later, my dear." With that, she picked up her glass, the bottle and led the parade away from the lady, and down the corridor. Jean-Luc was the last person left in the room.

He knelt by his wife's side. "Are you sure you are feeling all right?" He eyed her swollen ankles that he perched onto a pillow at the foot of the chaise lounge. Then he spread Beverly's family antique 'crazy' quilt about her body, covering her legs.

Beverly leaned back against some more pillows, and let him feel what she felt like. "Let me nap for about an hour. Then please come and get me. Awakening me should give you enough of an excuse to get you out of Lwaxana's clutches."

He chuckled. "I doubt it. I am sure that they will be staying for dinner. Mildred informed me earlier, that Holt's chef was taking a vacation…" He kissed her lightly on the lips, stood, and lowered the lighting in the room as he left.

About ninety minutes later Beverly awoke on her own. The sound of loud laughter coming from down the hallway had awakened her instead of her husband. Sitting upright, she waited a moment to let the dizziness pass, and then she felt some nausea. She mentally cursed again that she was still feeling her morning sickness this late in her pregnancy. With Wesley, she'd only experienced it during the first trimester. But obviously her age and the fact that she was carrying twins had caught up with her.

Waiting another moment, she was expecting Jean-Luc to come rushing into the library with their hyposprays. After a few minutes, another cup of tea, and as the nausea subsided a wee bit, she came to realize that she was not connecting with her husband. He was not coming to her rescue. _What the devil was he doing that was distracting him so?_

Waiting until she felt steady enough to move, she stood. After a few deep breaths, the walls were no longer dancing about her. In her bare feet, she walked down the corridor toward their private dining room. Loud words and laughter greeted her as she stared into the room. Jean-Luc had his back to her. Guinan and Holt sat opposite of each other. An almost empty bottle of brandy was sitting on top of the glossy inlaid table top with nary a coaster in sight. Lwaxana was facing her, chortling. _That was a somewhat ominous sign…_

The sight of Ludvig standing in the kitchen doorway told her that he too, was waiting to start setting up their dinner. It was her husband and their guests that were too occupied with their conversation and their brandy, to notice her standing in the semi-darkness of the hallway. Or their impatient chef.

"A purple bathing suit?" Holt roared, as if he were mentally picturing something… _Amusing._

Beverly froze. _The only purple bathing suit that she knew about was the one that she wore when she did her aquatic cardio workouts in the officer's gym complex at Starfleet Medical. _Ever since she'd started resembling a pregnant hippo, she'd been doing an exercise routine in the pool. _Sometimes Jean-Luc joined her…_

"I did not _say _anything - of course!" Jean-Luc loudly declared. He was working on his third balloon goblet of brandy. And it showed in his demeanor. He wasn't exactly drunk - he was _convivial._

"But you _thought_ it!" Lwaxana countered. "You thought that she was the _great, purple whale!"_

"_I did not __say__ that!" _Jean-Luc protested.

"Aloud," Lwaxana added. _"__But __you __thought __it__!"_

Guinan abruptly stood, loudly shoving her chair away from the table. "_Beverly__!"_

"What?" Jean-Luc turned, and looked upon his wife… _aghast. _

"_How could you!" _Beverly whispered, before she ran away. Or, at least she moved as quickly as she could, given her condition and her size.

And suddenly, all of that which he had not noticed feeling before, over the past few minutes, rushed over him like a tsunami. The nausea… the dizziness… the pain of his words, albeit unspoken… "_Mon Dieu, _what have I done…"

Guinan grabbed his arm before he could race after his wife. "I'll go to her."

"No. I have to apologize," he protested, trying to shake himself free.

"You don't want Beverly to murder you, do you?" Lwaxana opined as she grabbed his other arm. "Though if she stacks enough mothers on the jury, I'm sure they'll consider it to be justifiable homicide…"

"Shut up, Lwaxana," Guinan ordered. She turned her attention back to Jean-Luc. "Let me calm her down. I'll let you know when to go to your wife."

"I'd better come too," Lwaxana announced between hiccups.

"You're the one who read his mind," Guinan warned. "And then you had the temerity of actually speaking his thoughts out loud. That really was low down of you, Lwaxana."

"Well then, he shouldn't have thought it!" Lwaxana barked.

Ludvig threw up his hands, disgusted with what he had just witnessed. He had always expected such behavior from Lwaxana. He'd experienced the pleasure of serving Lwaxana many times over the years, so he'd learned to expect this kind of chaos from her. But similar behavior from Admiral Picard? He was shocked. And he definitely considered Lwaxana Troi-_whatever_ to be a very bad influence on his employer. He walked back into the kitchen, trying to decide if there was anything worth salvaging of his dinner.

"I thought that my Beverly was a _cute_ purple whale," Jean-Luc muttered under his breath, as Guinan forced him back down onto a chair.

But Guinan heard him anyway. "That'll work." She went after Beverly.

Jean-Luc pulled himself together, gulped, and then realized that he needed a hypospray for several reasons. He started to rise. This time it was Holt that kept him in his chair. "Leave her to Guinan, _Johnny_." He nodded his head in the direction of the hallway. "Lwaxana has a ton of hyposprays in our suite. I'm sure that one of them will cure you."

"I'll go get one," Lwaxana sweetly said before disappearing.

"You do know she's not going to go directly to your bedroom, don't you, Holt?" Jean-Luc warned.

"Oh, Lwaxana will be back - sooner or later," Holt shrugged, sitting down next to his friend. "This too will pass, Jean-Luc. Beverly will forgive you."

"Of that, I am sure, Holt. She will eventually accept my apology. She loves me. _But I am not so sure that she will ever forget what I said…" _He felt unbelievably stupid at the moment. And he did not care for this feeling at all.

"I don't think a women ever will," advised Holt. "Maybe when the twins graduate from the Academy…"

**=/\= ='/\'= =/\=**

Guinan wasn't quite sure what to expect from Beverly, as she tapped on the master suite's door. She could sense that Beverly's emotions were all ajumble, riotously running through the gamut. Pretending that she did hear Beverly say _enter_, Guinan carefully opened the door and peered inside.

Beverly was sitting on a plush navy blue armchair by the window. She'd taken her prescribed hypospray morning sickness dose, and was now physically, feeling much better. She may have shed some tears, but she wasn't crying at this moment. Instead, she fixed a very steady, determined gaze upon Guinan.

"Beverly?"

"He needs to _pay_, Guinan."

"Of course he does. _All men do._ That's the way of this world," she soothingly said. Guinan coolly walked up to Beverly, and pulled over the ottoman that matched the chair, and sat on it by Beverly's knees.

"I never really thought so, before." Beverly remember being pregnant with Wesley. "Jack was concerned, of course. He hovered around me when he was home, though I don't think he had mother-henned me too much. But he never behaved like Jean-Luc has, when I was pregnant."

"Jack at that time, did not have a tipsy Betazed ambassadress reading his thoughts out loud to the crowd, either," Guinan observed. "To his credit, Jean-Luc did not call you a purple whale to your face."

"_But he thought it, Guinan!"_

"That's true. So you must make him pay. That's what all incensed wives should do."

Beverly wasn't sure exactly what Guinan meant for she wasn't reading other people's minds unless it was Jean-Luc's. "You don't think that I should be upset?"

"You've already stopped crying. You weren't _that_ upset, Beverly." Guinan reached up and wiped away the trace of a tear from her cheek. "Besides, Jean-Luc actually thought that you were a _cute_ purple whale."

"He thought that I was fat, Guinan."

"No, you're wrong. He _didn't_. If I know my Jean-Luc, and I do, he was not thinking in that direction at all. He was just simply admiring the result of his husbandly handiwork. He's the one who caused you to be in this rotund condition, and he has been a cock-of-the-coop about your being pregnant by him ever since."

Beverly mulled over Guinan's words. Her expression became purposeful. "You're absolutely right. Though he's hidden it well, I've sensed every now and then, that Jean-Luc has felt _smug_ ever since I told him that I was pregnant…"

Guinan added, "To make matters worse, he's been _insufferable_ ever since he learned that you were having twins." She lightly patted Beverly's tummy. "Isn't that right, Little Ones?"

Beverly sensed that her babies weren't quite sure about what was going on, but they were rather content at the moment, in spite of Beverly's recent agitation. She returned to the matter at hand. "So, Guinan. What shall we do?"

"I know what I'd do," Lwaxana announced from the doorway.

"If it isn't illegal, breaks any Starfleet major regulations, or goes against the Hippocratic oath, I'd like to hear it," Beverly answered. There was a certain Howard look in her eye that would have been a warning to Jean-Luc if he'd seen it…


	3. Chapter 3: A Dish Served Cold

_**De-Tached: Story 4: Life with Beverly**_

_**Chapter 3: A Dish Served Cold…**_

"What did you say?" was Beverly's mirthful response to Deanna's nosy question.

"You heard me," the Betazed teased back. "How's your love-life? Given your condition… I can recommend certain positions..."

"Deanna, I am more than seven months pregnant and I more closely resemble a gigantic purple whale at the moment than a love goddess according to Jean-Luc. Just how much of a love life do you think I have at the moment? Or would let my husband have after he made _that_ remark?"

"I heard that he called you a _cute _purple whale," Deanna mentioned.

"That is what he allegedly thought."

"_Allegedly?"_

"Your mother was doing the mind-reading…"

"Well, my mother is a very good mind reader, though it can be said that her veracity is not always…_reliable_."

"Oh, Jean-Luc thought it, all right." Beverly reached over and snagged another one of Mildred's famous chocolate chip cookies. "He has been abject, apologizing profusely and waxing poetic to me during the past forty-eight hours." She started munching. "I didn't know that so many poems abounded with subject matter like the _quality of mercy…"_

"And you've been enjoying every minute of his grovelling, too."

"Of course. What woman wouldn't? Jean-Luc apologizing even as he is quoting Shakespeare is always a good thing." Beverly eyed her friend, momentarily admiring the way that she looked in her long sleeved rose colored dress. She was envying the fact that her friend was not carrying around what felt like two hundred kilos of extra weight. Only Deanna could pull off being demure and sexy simultaneously. "I am only following your Mother's advice," Beverly succinctly announced.

Deanna froze at this thought. "And look how many divorces that has led to! I'm not even sure that I know the exact count. Mother has a tendency not to tell me everything."

Beverly ruefully laughed, acknowledging Deanna's point. "Guinan's helping me bedevil Jean-Luc too. I want to make Jean-Luc suffer - at least for a little while longer before I officially forgive him."

"Will you forgive him in time for your baby shower?" Deanna had discerned that Beverly was well aware of all of Mildred's planning.

"Enough so that I won't force him to attend."

"Well, he had better attend. Mr. Data has requested an invitation, so Will has taken it upon himself to invite all of the _Enterprise's _senior staff and your shipboard friends to the shower as well." Deanna picked up another cookie. "On Betazed, most fathers-to-be and their families commonly attend such festivities." She started nibbling on the cookie. "And, believe it or not, I really think that the shower will be at Admiral Wiley's residence."

"About that…" Beverly hemmed.

"You wish to know how I feel about having the head of Starfleet as a stepfather?"

"Yes."

"Holt is not the worst stepfather that I have ever had. So far, he's been rather charming to me. And, their marriage - it's partially my own fault, isn't it? For I'm the one who sent Lwaxana to stay with you once you learned of your twins' psychic abilities. I should have known that Mother would have had another agenda in mind when she so readily agreed to come to Earth." She reached over and gently placed her fingers against Beverly's belly, and closed her eyes. Then she opened them a moment later.

"They're doing well, aren't they?" Beverly asked, somewhat curious as to how Deanna would respond to touching their delicate minds.

"It's such an exquisite contact," she whispered, overcome with longing for babies for just a moment. Then she reverted back to her normal self. "Considering everything, your babies are doing remarkably well." She gave Beverly a soft, knowing smile. "They know that whatever it is that you are doing with or to Jean-Luc, is done with love. As long as they feel your love for him, and his for you, nothing else intrudes. Or matters." Deanna took a big bite out of another cookie before she sipped her tea. "You do know that my mother has convinced them that she is their fairy godmother, don't you?"

"I expected as much," Beverly sighed as she poured herself another cup of herbal tea. "You should feel their joy whenever Lwaxana is near them. Not that I'd say it to her face, but I think that Guinan is a bit jealous."

"Well, my Mother has cast herself in the role of the favorite, benevolent godmother who will spoil them too much. She's leaving it to Guinan to be the disciplinarian."

"It is more fun to be the indulgent fairy godmother…," Beverly mused. "I wonder what they're going to think of me?" She shrugged. "I haven't told Jean-Luc yet about any of this. I don't wish for him to pull out what's left of his hair."

"Oh, it could be worse."

"How so?"

"My mother could have convinced Holt that he is now the honorary, fairy godfather to the twins as well."

Beverly closed her eyes for a moment. "I think that she already has. Do you have any idea what it is like to have your mother and Holt as house guests? For months? Holt gives me advice all the time. And the stories that your Mother tells... It's almost enough make me wish that I had remained a virgin." On Deanna's knowing grin, Beverly added, "I did say _almost..."_

Deanna laughed outright before she added, "Better you than me living with my Mother! I'm surprised that you haven't done any research into odorless, colorless, untraceable poisons."

"Who says I haven't?" Beverly muttered to herself.

Deanna finished off her third cookie and reached for another. "At least the main floor rooms at the Wiley estate are done in time for the baby shower. Though from what my Mother said, the bedrooms aren't going to be ready for quite a while. She's looking for some sort of very rare and of course extravagant, Bellinian watered silk wallpaper in a very specific color. And, according to her, it takes the worms a very long time to make it."

"Probably years." Beverly wearily nodded. Her gut feeling was that Lwaxana and Holt had moved permanently into the House Picard, and probably wouldn't move out of it until her twins had earned their PhDs. Or were ship's captains. Or both.

Deanna leaned against the tufted leather sofa back and sighed, looking about the wood paneled library. "Now, this is the way a library should look," she observed. "I truly love your house, Beverly."

"Thank you, Deanna. I love this house too, though there is still a lot of work to be done. At least the nursery suite is ready." She sighed. "And then there are the flowers. Spring is coming and I am in no condition to do any real gardening. And I was so looking forward to actually planting seeds in dirt that had been warmed by the sun. That's one of the things that I missed most on board a starship - having a real live natural herb and flower garden."

"I'd like to explore the gardens eventually," Deanna suggested, as she stood and wandered around the room gazing at book titles, and fingering treasured artifacts. She walked around and eyed the partner's desk, refraining from asking the obvious questions that a Betazed sex therapist might ask about the size of such a desk. She could tell by Beverly's emotions as the lady turned pink, that her favorite married couple had indeed used the desk for something other than Starfleet business. Then she paused before Data's portrait of the _Enterprise_ bridge officers. "Mr. Data did a wonderful job capturing all of us. He really is improving."

"Only as an artist. You don't want to know what Jean-Luc thinks of Mr. Data as an art critic. In certain areas, my husband still holds a grudge."

"He doesn't call it _that_," Deanna giggled.

Beverly laughed in agreement. "More tea?"

"And more of Mildred's cookies," Deanna's inner chocoholic insisted. "They're double chocolate chip."

"Mildred knew you were coming even before I did," Beverly explained. "But wait until you see what Ludvig is planning for dessert tonight. He said something about Chambord chocolate fudge and buttercream. There might even be a cake under it. In the mean time," she then motioned toward a wood panel, "if you push the quatrefoil on that panel, it opens up a hidey-hole, complete with liquor bottles."

Deanna's eyes gained a sparkle. "Oooooh, I love an old house with hidey holes, and secret panels. You're living in a house belonging to one of Dixon Hill's clients!"

"Sometimes, it seems that way. Jean-Luc didn't know about that particular secret panel." Beverly watched as Deanna opened it up and inspected the bottles that were still waiting to be sampled. Deanna's fingers glided over the hand-carved wood trim that had somehow survived centuries, embassies and the occasional earthquake. "Holt found it first, though don't let Holt know that. Jean-Luc has been planning on doing a proper survey of the house, when he gets a chance to do it."

"Well, you could do it. When you go on maternity leave, it would give you something to do rather than just sit around and stare at walls."

"And here, I was planning on knitting some more baby booties."

Deanna laughed. "I've seen your knitting. You're much better at dancing or solving mysteries than you are at knitting." She lifted up a bottle of Drambuie and inspected it before she broke the wax seal. "I've only heard about this liqueur." It took some effort, but Deanna eventually got the stopper out of the bottle.

"It's sweet but potent. You don't ever want to get drunk on it. The hangover is a killer. Not even a hypospray will save you if you do drink too much of it."

"Is that from personal experience?" Deanna teased.

"Not exactly. On Caldos, _dram buidheach_ is considered a traditional drink - an after-dinner drink. Though the few times that I've had it, I usually poured it over honeyed vanilla ice cream first."

"I wonder how it would go with chocolate," Deanna mused as she poured herself a sherry glass full of the liqueur, and then took a few tiny sips. She found herself fanning her flushed face as a reaction to the sudden flash of heat caused by the alcohol.

"May I join you?" Jean-Luc called out from the doorway.

Deanna put down her glass and rushed over to her former captain, embracing him and then kissing him lightly on the lips. He kissed his favorite counselor back. "Welcome, Deanna," Jean-Luc most formally announced even as he let Deanna hug him one more time. "It's wonderful to see you."

"Save a little of that for me," Beverly archly stated after noticing how pleased Jean-Luc seemed to be with being in the company of Deanna.

With an audible sigh of relief, Jean-Luc went to his bride, and kissed her gently. He assumed that apparently she'd forgiven him since she had just asked for him to kiss her.

For a moment, Jean-Luc's fingers lingered as he stroked Beverly's face. She leaned into his caress. In spite of her justified annoyance with the man, she still craved his touch even if only for a moment. He bent and kissed her. Jean-Luc, casually dressed in a blue sweater and jodhpurs, then positioned himself next to his wife on the chaise lounge, even as he accepted a small glass of the honey gold liquor. He drank it with appreciation, though generally speaking, he was not overly-fond of sweet liqueurs or wines.

He glanced down at his bride. Beverly could tell that he had automatically checked the size of her ankles when he had sat down. But he made no comment even as he studied her. Deciding not to be annoyed by his action, this time, Beverly noticed what he was wearing.

"Going riding?

"I'm riding one of our wedding presents from Kamala over to the Academy stables. I don't have the time to give two horses the exercise that they need right now, so I'm going to let a few chosen cadets ride them." He eyed his pregnant bride. "And you, obviously, are in no condition for me to instruct you in the art of riding a horse."

Beverly only grinned at this remark. For she had managed to avoid horseback riding lessons with Jean-Luc quite cleverly when they'd first arrived in San Francisco and had learned of their Valtese wedding presents. A long time ago, Beverly had decided that she did not like horses. And that horses did not like her.

"Deanna rides, don't you, Deanna?" Beverly innocently asked.

"Only if the horse has a western style saddle," Deanna acknowledged. "My father taught me how to ride."

"And you never mentioned this to me before?" Jean-Luc tried to act as if he were upset, but Deanna sensed better.

"I did not think that you wished company when you went riding in the holodeck," she explained, "for I know how much you enjoyed those solitary rides. And how rarely you got the chance to experience them."

"I did enjoy the solitude then. But now, I would not mind the company, especially since Beverly cannot oblige me. And it would save me from having to make two trips, for I have a better chance of finding spare time to ride at the Academy, that I do here." He didn't have to explain himself to Deanna. The mere thought of her mother's presence was explanation enough. She smiled in understanding and nodded. "Deanna, would you care to join me at the stables in fifteen minutes? I think I saw a Western saddle in the tack room."

"Yes. I'll go change." Deanna replied with a laugh. And then she swiftly left the library to run up to her guest room and change. Considering how much luggage she'd had beamed into the guest room, neither Picard was that surprised that Deanna had packed a riding outfit.

Jean-Luc was still chuckling as he picked up Beverly's hand in order to just simply hold it. And to check her pulse before he pressed a soft kiss against her palm. "And how are you really, _mon coeur?"_

She pulled her hand away from his. "I feel fine, today. Even though I am not quite ready to forgive you," she primly replied. But the warmth behind her smile belied her words.

He was instantly apologetic, again. "I am so very sorry, _mon coeur. _I did not mean to hurt you with what was at best, a fleeting, thoughtless, momentary thought."

"And who amongst us can control our thoughts at all times?" she teased. She relaxed against him, resting her head against his shoulder even as he stroked her hair. "As punishment for your crime against pregnant womanhood, Lwaxana recommended being nice to you alternating with disinterest even as I was ignoring you," she explained. "She thought that the best punishment would be for you not knowing which way my very pregnant, hormonal, emotional _wind_ was blowing. She wanted me to keep you guessing." He put his arm around her shoulders, embracing her, glad that she was at least willing to talk to him without reservation again. "And I did have you going there, for a while, didn't I, Jean-Luc?"

"After the first twenty-four hours I do believe that I was willing to beg forgiveness upon bended knee, every time I was in your presence," he admitted. "Knowing that you were upset with me, yet still acting as if I hadn't said a thing to upset you, was quite alarming. I kept waiting for your Howard temper to drop the proverbial shoe upon my head. Along with all of the other sorts of Machiavellian torments that you might devise for me."

"Yes. Watching your anticipated dreading was quite an enjoyable pastime for me," she wickedly agreed as she started to nibble on his neck. Since she wasn't torturing him at the moment, he responded to her actions rather enthusiastically. She kissed him then as a reward, rather passionately. Then Beverly abruptly stopped. And then she continued speaking as if they were just indulging in a casual conversation. "…especially when you can't predict what I may do next. And more specifically after benefiting from Lwaxana's teachings." Her grin was the expression of innocence as she stroked his groin lightly before she stood. He reacted instantly to her touch. "I'm going up stairs to take a nap." Her grin broadened. "If you return home with enough time allowed before dinner, please wake me. I just might be in the mood to assist you when you take a shower." With that, she sashayed over to the door and paused. "You're a very lucky husband, Jean-Luc."

He just had to ask. "How so?" He saw the look on Beverly's face and then hastily added, "Not that I do not know how fortunate a husband I am."

She smirked. "Just be very grateful that I was not wearing a white bathing suit, Jean-Luc. I don't think that I could have really let you live if you had referred to me as _Mommy Dick_…" She walked down the hall with a very satisfied grin on her face.

For a second, Jean-Luc considered himself to be a very, very lucky man. Considering her condition, Jean-Luc was rather impressed that she could sashay too, when he realized just how little time he had left to calm himself down before meeting Deanna at the stables. _She'd done it to him again._


	4. Chapter 4: Reigning Babies

_**De-Tached: Story 4: Life with Beverly**_

_**Chapter 4: Reigning Babies**_

**=/\= ='/\'= =/\=**

"What did you say?" Beverly asked, trying not to reveal her trepidation over Lwaxana's casual statement.

"Party games? Is that what is upsetting you?" Lwaxana merrily replied as she ever-so-casually read Beverly's mind again. And then she inwardly smiled. Simultaneously, both ladies had conjured up completely different images of Jean-Luc Picard participating in baby shower party games. And for a split second both ladies felt glee at the thought of the former captain of the _Enterprise _participating in such preposterous activities.

Lwaxana walked over to Beverly and hugged her, then glanced about the walk-in closet that Beverly shared with Jean-Luc. Approximately one fourth of the closet held Jean-Luc's clothing. The rest belonged to Beverly. She appraised what was visible. "So, what are you going to wear to the baby shower? You've got less than an hour to choose before we have to go over to my house."

Beverly picked up a dress on a hanger. "I was thinking of this one." She held up a long, voluminous dress in smoky blue chiffon.

Lwaxana shook her head. "It's lovely. But that won't do. It's not significant enough. And it will probably clash with the décor." She pulled the dress out of Beverly's hands and dropped it on the floor.

Beverly paused for a moment trying to decipher what Lwaxana meant by that statement.

"Beverly?" a voice called out from the outer room.

"In here, Deanna," Beverly replied even as she watched Lwaxana ruthless inspecting and then discarding all of Beverly's obvious choices to wear to the afternoon's baby shower.

Deanna entered the closet, saw the growing mounds of dresses on the floor, and then tartly declared, "Mother, this is Beverly's closet. You can't take it over and empty it out for your clothes."

Lwaxana glared at her daughter. "I am searching for the perfect outfit for Beverly, that doesn't clash with my décor," the lady explained.

Deanna refrained from rolling her eyes. Beverly didn't.

"Lwaxana, I am going to wear whatever doesn't make me look like the great purple whale," Beverly informed the lady.

"Purple!" Lwaxana stated, as she renewed her inspection of Beverly's closet. "That's a splendid idea. I have just the thing!" With that ominous remark, Lwaxana dashed out of the closet and ran to her bedroom suite.

"You're a saint," Beverly observed as she sat down on the padded bench in the room. She noticed that Deanna was starting to pick up some of the scattered dresses. "How have you managed not to murder your mother over the years?"

"My mother is bearable as long as I keep myself a galaxy or two away from her ninety-nine percent of the time."

"I do understand," Beverly agreed as she instantly recalled every little detail of her trials and tribulations of being a hostess to the senior Ambassadress from Troi. She automatically shook her head as Deanna picked up a garnet red pair of silk pants with a matching sleeveless top.

"No one will make any 'bursting cherry' remarks during the shower," Deanna remarked as she still continued to hold up the top.

"But they may think it and you can always rely on Lwaxana to…"

Lwaxana heard the last part of that statement as she returned and interrupted Beverly. "Of course you can always rely on me, my dear," she brightly said. She eyed what Deanna was holding. "Perfect!" Then she displayed the garment that she'd held in her arms.

It had bronze banding with gold liripiping about the edges. It had a subtle ruby to copper geometric pattern imprinted onto flowing burgundy panels. And it was some kind of flaring, ankle length overdress with long bell sleeves, a cut away front, and a high Mandarin collar.

Lwaxana placed the silk fabric against the slacks. "Perfect," she repeated. "Wear this and you'll be making a statement, Beverly."

"That I'm very pregnant?"

"And very beautiful," a disembodied voice echoed about the room. There was a snap of the fingers, and suddenly Beverly found herself wearing the outfit that Lwaxana was proposing. The long coat had suddenly been altered to fit Beverly properly. The sleeves were at the right length. And the tank top was considerably lower in front than the first time that Beverly had worn it. Though it would take Beverly a few moments before she would realize that one of Jean-Luc's favorite treasures were more prominently displayed.

"Q!" all three ladies said simultaneously.

He appeared in an instant, dressed in a surprisingly tasteful - for him - royal blue tunic and slacks. In fact, he looked _normal_.

"What are you doing here?" Beverly asked in quite a mild tone of voice, considering everything. She fingered the Faberge locket with its hand-painted portraits of Jean-Luc and Wesley, that Q had materialized about her neck. Q's wedding present to her had become one of her all time favorite non-Jean-Luc presents. And she knew that he knew this too. Matters weren't hurt by the fact that Lwaxana's choice of outfit was a perfect setting for the ornate, bejewelled pendant and its multiple chains, either.

"Well, I can't be at your house yet…" He nodded at Lwaxana. "…for Guinan is there, and I don't think that she'd appreciate my presence at the moment."

"You mean your _interference_," Deanna muttered under her breath, even as she glanced down at her pink dress just to make sure that Q had not altered its appearance as well.

"I'm not allowed to interfere in Sector One!" Q sharply retorted.

"Which is one of the reasons as to why I like you better, here in Sector One, than anywhere else," Beverly easily responded, as she walked up to the man, and shocked them all - including Q - when she reached up and kissed his cheek.

"Why, Beverly! I'm beginning to see what Jean-Luc sees in you." He pressed his hand against her tummy. And then he whispered, as if he almost were in shock, "They _like_ me! In spite of everything, and Guinan and Jean-Luc's best efforts, _they like me!"_

Deanna could have sworn that she saw a glimmer of a tear in Q's eyes

Beverly placed her hand on top of Q's hand. "You will behave yourself, this afternoon? You promise?"

"Of course, my beautiful Beverly. I wouldn't dream of upsetting you - or the babies."

"Good. For if you do abide by your promise, then I will formally announce to one and all this afternoon, that you are one of the babies' fairy godfathers," Beverly pronounced.

Q felt a genuine emotion flutter in his breast. For a moment, he froze, as if trying to identify such an unusual, unique feeling. When he understood what it was, he closed his eyes for a brief moment, relishing the feeling. And then he softly stated, "I will be godfathers to both children, if only in an unofficial capacity." Then he thought of something. "Your _âme soeur _won't like this."

"Jean-Luc will just have to learn to live with his soul mate's decision," Beverly declared, with a twinkle in her eye.

Q's grin broadened at this announcement. "I'm beginning to see what Jean-Luc sees in you, mon coeur. He's a very lucky man…" Q paused, and then just had to ask, "I don't suppose that you could name junior here with one of my many names? May I suggest Qadim? Quennell? Quimby? Quinn? Quentinn?"

"You'd have to ask Jean-Luc about that." Beverly's look spoke volumes about the likelihood of Jean-Luc picking one of those names.

"Ever the submissive little wifey, eh? Heaven forbid that I may find myself asking Jean-Luc for advice one day about the female of the species." He patted Beverly's arm. "Well then, what about Suzie Q for your daughter?"

Beverly grinned. "That is one I might consider.

By now, Q was beginning to annoy the wife of the head of Starfleet Command. "Q! If you make us late for the baby shower, I'll make you pay!" Lwaxana threatened.

"A formidable threat indeed." Q snapped his fingers and they all disappeared.

**=/\= ='/\'= =/\=**

It was beautiful. Tasteful. And Jean-Luc was willing to admit to himself that he was thoroughly surprised when he walked through the door and stood in the foyer of Winston Holt Wiley's house, looking about. Jean-Luc was shocked by the appearance of the first floor of this mansion that had been decorated by Lwaxana. It was actually beautiful. Holt had always had a fondness for ostentatious décor. Somehow, Lwaxana had used his preference in her decorating choices, and yet had restrained herself from going overboard - which was a miracle unto itself. Not that Jean-Luc would have wanted to live in such decorated rooms for they were not to his personal taste, but at least they weren't the horror that he had been envisioning and expecting considering Lwaxana's taste in clothes.

It was a room of light and air. The main salon which opened out onto a large terrace, was decorated in Holt's favorite Louis XVI style, with gilded woods, marbles and d'ore bronze ormolu detailing. Crystal chandeliers, antique candelabra, silvered wall paper, and Aubusson carpets were everywhere. Watteauesque tapestries were mounted on soaring wallscapes. Everywhere one glanced, things were on a grand yet distinguished scale. And it all worked. Magnificently.

Jean-Luc ruefully acknowledged to himself that he had underestimated Lwaxana once again. And by the gleam in the lady's eye as she waved at him from the patio, he could discern that she acknowledged his silent appreciation.

Mildred greeted him in the foyer that lead into the salon. "Hello, _Johnny_. The shower is in the party room and the terrace. Everything is set up back there by the garden."

He caught sight of Cadet Olezewski working in the background. "Ludvig prepared the food?" he quietly asked of Mildred.

"Yes. Holt's chef is on 'vacation'. Lord knows if he's coming back. I don't think Mr. Homm made a good impression on the man before he left. I heard tell of a _battle royale. _Mr. Homm won." Mildred might not have been a mind reader, but she knew what the next question would be out of Jean-Luc's mouth. "And no, Ludvig is not going anywhere - unless Riker snabs him. Of course, that depends upon where you'll be posting Brawny after she graduates." She laid a hand on his olive silk shirt covered chest. "After you eat, you might want to disappear with Riker somewhere. You don't want to be around the ladies when Lwaxana starts playing games."

Jean-Luc digested this statement. He wasn't quite sure what Mildred meant since Lwaxana always seemed to be playing some sort of 'game'.

Mildred noticed Jean-Luc's look of puzzlement. "Something tells me you haven't been to too many baby showers, Admiral." She patted his chest again, and then observed some activity behind Jean-Luc's shoulder. "Move on, _Johnny_. I've got more guests to greet."

So Jean-Luc wandered down the hallway to the patio which was protected by a weather bubble. The first thing he noticed was Beverly surrounded by a lot of chattering women, most of whom he recognized. The second thing he noticed was Mr. Homm dressed all in white, standing behind a crystalline bar acting as a bartender. Mr. Homm was also disgustedly grimacing.

Suddenly an arm went about Jean-Luc's shoulder. "Greetings, Jean-Luc! How's the papa-to-be?" His frostiest glare did not make a dent in Q's hide. "Don't bother with the bar unless you only want synthehol."

This statement surprised Jean-Luc. _Lwaxana serving something other than real alcohol? _"You're refraining from doing something about it? Why are you showing such restraint, Q?"

Q grumbled a minute, then admitted, "I promised Beverly that I would behave."

Jean-Luc nodded, accepting this. For he too knew the power of Beverly when it came to making promises to her. He was just surprised the Q knew this as well.

A moment later he was joined by Will Riker, Worf, Geordi and Mr. Data. They formed a protective barrier against Q's presence. Jean-Luc was mildly amused by their stance. _Old habits died hard…_

Surprisingly, Q did nothing to antagonize the men. Instead, the imp announced, "I'll go see if Guinan needs me to do anything…", and disappeared.

Will guided the group to an outdoor crystalline table and chairs. Even as they sat down, Mr. Homm came over with a tall pitcher of synthale and a tray of pilsner glasses. "Ugh!" was his way of greeting the men. And then he left. Will did the honors and poured the synthale.

"I'll let you know when it's safe to go and greet Beverly, Jean-Luc," Will announced for the position of his chair gave him an excellent view of the guest of honor holding court.

Mr. Worf stood between his captain and his cha'Dich.

"Sit, Worf," Will suggested.

"I would prefer to stand," Worf announced even as he eyed the decorations, the balloons, and the massive diaper form white chocolate frosted cake that had a 'two peas in a pod' theme. It didn't take Worf long to notice that the theme of the party was two of everything that could be imagined as being baby related - with one in pink and one in blue. He grunted with displeasure.

"What?" Jean-Luc just had to ask.

"Klingon women do not do this," Worf announced as he waved his arm in the general direction of the dessert buffet and toward the mountain of presents that were accumulating on tables by a wall. "Klingons do not celebrate the _waiting_ for a baby. We celebrate the _making_ of the baby. Then, after the baby is born, we drink. Klingon warriors do not do _this fussing_…" He waved his arm again.

"I knew there was a reason as to why I liked Klingons," Will observed. He leaned over and quietly said to Jean-Luc, "Someone named Mildred warned me about baby shower games."

"I've been to a few baby showers in my time," Geordi casually remarked as he poured himself some synthale. He didn't notice the slightly stunned expression of the men about the table at this admission. "Some of those games can be fun. There's one where you try to guess the smells…"

"Did Lwaxana Troi-Wiley create these games?" Mr. Data innocently asked.

Geordi contemplated this question for a moment. "Oh." Mr. LaForge's enthusiasm for such games was rapidly diminishing.

Worf acknowledged with great reluctance, "Admiral. Captain. If you wish to participate in such games, then I would have to do so as well…"

"…And you are not a 'merry' man," Will teased, referencing another round of game playing that had once taken place in Sherwood Forrest.

"I believe, gentlemen, that my taking part in said games, will solely rely on Beverly's wishes," Jean-Luc unenthusiastically admitted. For he shuddered to think about what kind of embarrassing situations Lwaxana would create for him during his participation in such games. He caught a glimpse of Riker's smug expression. "Will, I think that I can safely say, that _you _would be next on Lwaxana's _'hit'_ list after me. Especially since Lwaxana is expecting some sort of important announcement from Deanna…"

Riker paled at this thought.

Jean-Luc hid his smile even as he stood. "Gentleman, I go to greet the mother of my children and our hostesses. I shall return, since even if there were something for me to do, I sincerely doubt that Mildred or Guinan would let me do it. The way they efficiently run things at times could put the Vulcans to shame…" He nodded his head slightly and then walked over to Beverly. He was admiring her outfit even as he wondered just exactly where it had come from…

A slightly pale, surprisingly nervous slender Vulcan sat down in the empty chair next to Mr. Data. "Save me, Commander Data. Please." He drank an entire glass of blue stuff that he had been carrying before he placed the empty glass on the table.

"Commander S'Rock, is there a problem?" Data politely asked.

"And you are?" a nosy Riker asked since he did not think that he had ever seen this officer before - other than on Christmas vids.

"Captain, this is Lieutenant Commander S'Rock." Data introduced his crew mates. "The commander and I have worked together when the then-Captain Picard was assembling the original _Enterprise_ crew. Commander S'Rock was a good friend of Tasha Yar." Data recognized that this reference would acquaint S'Rock well with his crew mates. He saw Riker visibly relax a bit over the mention of this association. Data then turned and considerately asked, "Are you still with Admiral Picard?"

"I'm with Beverly now," the Vulcan admitted. "I'm her adjutant for the Hospital Ship project."

Will Riker raised an eyebrow at a Vulcan using his commanding officer's first name with such familiarity. He didn't say anything, but the Vulcan caught the silent query.

"I've been personally taking care of Beverly during her pregnancy, with Admiral Jean-Luc Picard's permission of course. She who is my wife explained to me that I must accede to whatever a pregnant lady wishes. And if that includes calling the admiral by her given name, then I must do so. I sincerely wish that after the admiral finishes with her maternity leave, I will be allowed to revert back to standard protocols."

"From what do you wished to be saved?" a very curious Mr. Data asked.

Commander S'Rock considered the android's words as well as the way that he had said them. "Your endeavor to become more human-like is succeeding, Mr. Data. You are quite changed from seven years ago."

"That is thanks to Commander LaForge's efforts on my behalf," Data explained. And then he started to list the chronology of his attempt to become human.

It was S'Rock himself who interrupted the android. And it became obvious to Data's friends, that this Vulcan had learned how to deal with Data as well.

"You need saving?" Riker asked, with just a little bit of curiosity.

The Vulcan nodded. "My wife is with child. Mrs. Krebs and Ambassador Troi-Wiley have already started making plans for Cherry's baby shower. I do not think that I could survive such an occasion… Especially if _all_ of my wife's side of the family should attend…'

Data found this bit of news to be fascinating. "You married Yeoman Ames?"

"Yes. After I encouraged her to complete officer training, she decided to do something about the fact that I…" The Vulcan abruptly stopped speaking.

Mr. Data nodded. "I had always noticed the rise in your body temperature and pulse rate whenever you were in Yeoman Ames' presence, Commander S'Rock. And since you are now expecting a child, I trust that it is an amicable match?" The Vulcan slightly nodded, trying to cope with all of the unexpected emotions that the effects of two blue ales were having on his control of his emotional disciplines.

All Captain Riker had to say to this, for he knew that a Vulcan would not really like to accept sympathy from an unknown officer, was, "Commander S'Rock, where did you get the blue ale?"

**=/\= ='/\'= =/\=**

Once again, Jean-Luc Picard found himself reminding himself that the special moments in life were to be celebrated and not just endured. He had to remind himself that a baby shower, especially for his twins, was something not to be grumbling about. It was a time to rejoice. Though attending his wife's baby shower certainly was an occasion that he had never, ever envisioned himself doing. _But then he had never, ever thought that Beverly would be having their twins… _As he watched his nephew Rene darting here and there, and swiping here and there a petit four or a bonbon, he realized that in a few years, if the gods were kind, it would be _his_ children doing the same thing at a family function. And he could only look forward to such a happy day.

Sitting next to Beverly, he reached over and just lightly touched her stomach, as if to verify that it was indeed his beloved sitting next to him, and blossoming into her last stage of pregnancy. _His wife… His children…_ He acknowledged the joy in his heart and willed for his wife and children to feel it as well.

Behind him, Guinan, Deanna and Lwaxana shared a smile.

He heard, "Norah, how good of you to come," as Beverly greeted the lady who was her physician, and also a personal friend.

"I wouldn't have missed this, Beverly. Besides, I wanted to see how happy you were now that you are on your maternity leave."

Jean-Luc caught his breath for this was news to him.

Beverly raised a skeptical eyebrow. She spoke softly but firmly, leaning forward into her doctor's personal space. "Since when? I thought that I had another three weeks before I took off from work."

"You know it's time. Your latest medical reports beg to differ. If you want the details, I'll tell you during your office visit - 1330 tomorrow."

"I have meetings…", she softly protested.

"Not any more," Norah firmly replied. "Your adjutant has already overseen the rearrangement of your schedule.

Jean-Luc could tell that Beverly was not pleased with her doctor's words. _Or the fact that Dr. Bolt had just ambushed her. Professionally, he understood the doctor's tactics. But he would have to deal with the aftermath. _He stood and stepped closer to his wife, extending his hand toward the doctor. "Thank you, Dr. Bolt. And welcome."

Grateful to Jean-Luc for at least temporarily getting her out of a problematic situation, Norah flashed him a brilliant smile and then went in search of some punch.

As if sensing that something might be inciting the legendary Howard temper, Lwaxana started waving her hands about in the air.

Mr. Homm produced a table top gong, and clanged it loudly.

"Yoohoo! Everyone! Luncheon is served." Many were pleased at the thought of finally eating. But those who knew Betazed customs, stared with dismay at the copper and brass gong. And Mr. Homm holding the hammer.

Guinan only grinned. For she now had confirmation of what she had been suspecting when it came to Lwaxana and certain Terran phrases. Lwaxana's _yahoo_ was reserved for Jean-Luc alone.

Much to Jean-Luc's surprise, Mildred came over, ordered him to stand and then said, "Follow me." Offering his wife his arm, he did just that. And then he discovered just exactly how big Winston Holt Wiley's mansion really was. For around the corner was another terrace under a weather bubble. And judging by the number of round tables set up for a formal luncheon, there was going to be more than a hundred people in attendance at the shower. Mildred led them to the main table where Marie and Robert were already standing.

Even though there were many other guests in what could be described as casual clothing, Jean-Luc glanced down at his silk shirt and slacks, deciding that he was a bit underdressed for this situation. Bending a bit, he whispered to Mildred, "Why didn't you tell me that this was going to be such a lavish function?"

"I think you'd have 'heard' the Borg calling your name if I had warned you," Mildred retorted. "Once Lwaxana knew that the males of many species were coming, she decided to do what she does best - throw a big fancy-smancy party. Fortunately for Holt, he was smart enough to agree." Mildred stepped aside and Marie came in to kiss first Beverly and then Jean-Luc. Robert greeted them as well.

As they sat down, Marie asked, "Has anyone seen Rene?"

"He was wolfing down pastries the last time I saw him," Beverly replied with just a hint of mischief to her voice. "I told him no more than four before lunch. And that he had better save some of the better ones for me on a plate."

Q suddenly popped into view and sat down by Beverly. "No matter, my dear doctor. If we run out of your favorites, I'll just snap my fingers and bring you whatever you and my godchildren fancy."

Jean-Luc observed the way that Marie and Robert reacted to Q's arrival. And considering the expressions on their faces, he was rather amused by Q's presence. Now that Q was here, he knew that Robert and Marie would know that he had not exaggerated one iota when it came to his personal imp and his stories about the Continuum.

Ever the gentleman, Jean-Luc explained, "Marie and Robert, may I introduce you to Q of the Continuum? He's just visiting in Sector One, popping in and out as he pleases. I do believe I've mentioned to you about the Continuum before." Watching Robert numbly nod his head made this moment worth tolerating in spite of whatever games Lwaxana was planning.

Beverly nudged Jean-Luc's knee with her own as she handed him her locket. "I never got a chance to wear this present before. Q gave it to me as a wedding present."

Marie studied it first, and smiled at the portraits inside of the locket, and then speculatively eyed Jean-Luc's mischievous guest. "You're the gentleman who turned Beverly into a dog, aren't you?"

"Don't I get some credit for turning her back again?" Q whined. "I did abjectly apologize afterwards."

"And a pretty apology it was too," Beverly agreed as she took a sip of sparkling water from her goblet.

Jean-Luc thought for a moment. "Beverly, when did Q apologize?"

She flirted with her husband for just a moment before she answered. "Jean-Luc, a lady doesn't have to reveal all of her secrets to her husband." And then she kissed him lightly upon the lips.

Jean-Luc ignored Marie and Robert's knowing looks. Instead, he looked over at Q. Q was the picture of innocence_._ Jean-Luc would have delved some more into this matter, but the rest of their table companions arrived including Will, Deanna, Holt and Wesley.

About an hour later after a delicious luncheon, Jean-Luc could sense that Beverly was relaxed, contented and pleased. So far, the shower was far from the dreaded occasion that Jean-Luc had been expecting. And as near as he could tell, Guinan was managing to keep both Lwaxana and Q from succumbing to their dark sides. Jean-Luc was feeling rather happy for the moment.

Then Q leaned over, and sounding rather puzzled asked, "While I will concede that my godchildren will one day reign over the heavens - and Earth - thanks to the gifts that I shall bestow upon them, I still don't quite understand why they have to be showered upon. What does getting the mother-to-be wet have to do with celebrating the twins arrival?"

It was Mr. Data who had the answer. "The 'shower' which you are referencing actually means that the pregnant lady's friends are giving her gifts to assist her when the babies arrive."

"_Showering_ her with presents," Marie added. She found herself intrigued by this most unusual individual, even as she was willing to concede that Jean-Luc had not exaggerated in the tales that he had told about Q. He'd been a most intriguing and enjoyably witty luncheon companion.

"Oh." That was all that Q said. He decided not to visibly preen over Marie Picard's opinion of himself. He suspected that Jean-Luc and his brother would not be appreciative of it.

Guinan too-sweetly asked, "Just exactly what have you planned, Q?"

Jean-Luc stiffened. He was already nervous over Q's casual use of the word 'godfather'. Now he warily started looking upwards, expecting to see something alarming.

Q snapped his fingers. And what appeared to be a baby figural form glass - or was it a balloon? - suddenly materialized on the banquet table top. "I thought that I might have a couple hundred of these drop in." He stared at Captain Riker. "Oh, if the _substitute _captain would be so inclined, if you'd care to, you might wish to uncork the end and pour the contents into a glass."

It took Will a moment to realize that he had to take the diaper off of the boy in order to do so. The spout to the bottle was exactly where Will thought it would be. He uncorked it, not bothering to hide his grin.

Jean-Luc kept his chuckle to himself. One did not have to be a Betazoid empath to know that the females at the party would not approve of the rather tasteless way one poured the cider. Jean-Luc on the other had, knew that Q refraining from being tasteless at any occasion, was pretty much an impossibility. He was just glad that Q's attempt at less-cerebral humor was this innocuous.

Will poured the contents into his empty pilsner glass. He sniffed it, and was pleasantly surprised by what he was smelling.

"Oh, be a man and drink it, Captain," Lwaxana barked, rather curious as to what Q had conjured up. Besides, she was rather displeased with Will Riker at the moment. And if Q's potable might be discommodious to Will Riker, well she would not object at all.

"What is this stuff?" Will gasped, after he took a sip. And then he drank another, much deeper sip.

"Oh, it's something from the Delta quadrant. My son's godmother will tell you all about it when she finally gets home."

"Well?" demanded Lwaxana.

"It's like a cross between apple cider and and a really good lager. It's delicious," Riker admitted.

Picard focused on something else that Q had said. "Your _son's godmother?"_

"You know Kathy, Jean-Luc. Sometimes she baby sits when Mrs. Q and I have plans. Junior rather likes her." Even as Jean-Luc's eyes widened in surprise, Q added, "I couldn't name Junior after you, Jean-Luc. I just simply couldn't use your moniker as a name for my son. Mrs. Q wouldn't permit it." He eyed Beverly. "You know how difficult and demanding pregnant ladies can be." He leaned closer to the admiral. "I hope that you aren't too disappointed. I meant no insult."

Picard really didn't quite know what to say. "You say I know your son's godmother in the _Delta_ Quadrant?"

"Of course you do. She was one of your science officers a long time ago."

"Then what is she doing in the Delta Quadrant?" Riker demanded.

"You're a poor substitute for the real thing, do you know that _Captain_ Riker? He'll never grow into your boots," Q cast as an aside to Jean-Luc. Q added,"Kathy's there with her ship. In a couple of years she'll be home."

"No thanks to you," Guinan softly added, as if for Jean-Luc's ears only.

"Oh, go and ask your Mr. Broccoli all of the details. He's the one who's been communicating with her. And her ship."

Stopping in the midst of pouring the cider into his wine glass, Winston Holt Wiley calmly asked, "What ship?"

Q turned and glared at the man. "As if you didn't know."

"That's top secret," Holt retorted.

"You'll find that your Federation has no secrets from me, you pretentious little man. And if it weren't for my deep fondness and admiration for your wife, I would show you just exactly what I mean," Q huffed. "I am omnipotent, after all."

"Not according to Jean-Luc," Holt unwisely replied.

Beverly stood and walked around the table to place her hands on Q's shoulders. She bent over and whispered, "You promised, Q."

"And that is the sole reason as to why _Whiney_ there, is not devolving into a slimy, scaly little Tagusian muck worm as we speak."

Beverly lightly kissed Q's cheek. "Thank you, Q."

Meanwhile, Jean-Luc had deduced the identity of the unlucky, lost godmother. "Kathryn Jane…"

Holt abruptly interrupted Jean-Luc's musings with, "We'll discuss this later, Admiral."

Jean-Luc knew when to hold his tongue.

Lwaxana decided to diffuse the situation that was suddenly turning rather tense. She stood, fluttered her arms about and then loudly announced, "Let the games begin!" She tugged on Beverly's hand to lead her to a dais by the dessert tables and the presents. "We'll be opening the presents shortly. But first, we're going to play 'Guess the Girth!'"

Beverly was about to voice her opinion about playing a game based on guessing her present waist size, when Mr. Data announced, "162.56 centimeters." Beverly glared at the android. One did not have to be a counselor to know that Beverly's Howard temper was close to revealing itself.

Geordi quietly said to his friend, "Data, don't let Beverly get anywhere near your 'off' switch until after she has calmed down.

"Not a wise remark, tin man," Q gleefully said.

Lwaxana pulled out a tape measure.

"You don't have to measure me," Beverly remarked through gritted teeth. "Data's guess is correct."

Lwaxana recovered beautifully. "I would have thought you were fatter." She put down her tape measure. "Well, in that case, Baby Bottle Bowling anyone?"


	5. Chapter 5: Baby Blanket Bingo

_**De-Tached: Story 4: Life with Beverly**_

_**Chapter 5: Baby Blanket Bingo and other Sundry Games**_

**=/\= ='/\'= =/\=**

"What did you say?" squeaked Lwaxana as she angrily stared down at Lieutenant Commander S'Rock who was sitting next to his wife, Cherry. The fact that he was holding his wife's hand in public did not soften Lwaxana's heart. She was convinced that the Vulcan was cheating.

Beverly stood and whispered into Lwaxana's ear. "Lwaxana, he's a _Vulcan_. Considering his superior sense of smell, I would have been worried if he _hadn't_ been the first one to identify the diaper '_smell_'."

"What? But the diaper is still in the other room! That's cheating!"

Beverly only glared at Lwaxana sorely wishing that the '_Guess the Smell_' game part of her baby shower would be over soon - very soon. "How can it be cheating?" she too-patiently asked.

"He's smelling what's hidden in the diaper before we even bring the diaper in from the other room!" Lwaxana patiently explained. And complained.

S'Rock abruptly stood, pausing just for a moment to kiss the wedding ring on his wife's hand for he had found Admiral Jean-Luc Picard's continuing expression of devotion to one's wife in such a manner, to be most appropriate and acceptable for a Vulcan. So he copied it. "I do not cheat, Ambassadress," the Vulcan stiffly stated. It was his only sign of being annoyed. "It is not within my power to alter my olfactory ability simply because it is superior to a Betazed or a human sense of smell." He slightly bowed in Beverly's direction. "I shall go unless Admiral Picard needs my additional assistance for anything." As a parting shot he warned, "The party for she who is to be the mother of my child must be better planned."

All Beverly Picard told the Vulcan when he approached was, "Go to my office and check the messages. Deal with them."

S'Rock nodded his compliance, grateful that Beverly had thought up something for him to do. He left contemplating what he'd suggest for Madam Guinan to do if Lwaxana Troi ever decided to take another trip to Vulcan.

Lwaxana huffed for only a moment. "Ah, well." She brightened up. "Let's play _Baby Blanket Bingo_!"

Will Riker groaned in the background. Matters were made even worse by the fact that Geordi quickly helped passing out the bingo cards to all of the guests, as well as making sure that all of his _Enterprise_ comrades had cards and markers of their own.

A puzzled Data studied his card after accessing the rules of Bingo. "Captain Riker, where are the numbers?" For Data's bingo card was covered with squares containing differing phrases.

Riker shook his head, not quite comprehending this version of the game either.

Geordi happily explained. "Beverly's going to be opening her presents soon. You get to cross off one of her exact quotes in each square that matches what she says about her gifts, the party, the guests etc." He could tell that Data was about to ask a question. "Everybody's card is different. If you get five in a row - it is bingo."

"Yohoo! Mr. Data!" Lwaxana shouted from the dais where Beverly, Mildred and Guinan were patiently sitting. "Would you play secretary and record all of Beverly's statements as we give Beverly her presents?"

Mr. Data stood. "Madame Ambassador, I always record everything…"

Jean-Luc Picard interrupted the android. "Just say _'yes'_ Mr. Data. Matters will proceed more quickly that way."

Data was experienced enough in interpreting Jean-Luc Picard's moods to know that his friend was reaching the end of his patience. He acknowledged his acceptance of assisting Lwaxana. Then he sat down and observed the expressions of all of his friends and or crewmates sitting about the round table. He would categorize them later. However, he logically concluded that there might be a problem if he were to record Beverly's statements. "I do not think that it is proper for me to participate in this game if I am to be recording Beverly's responses."

"I'll take your bingo card and play it for you," Geordi quickly offered. "This is one of my favorite baby shower games. I'm pretty good at it. The crazy things that the ladies sometimes say…"

Will Riker raised an eyebrow over these remarks, even as he was pretending to ignore Reg Barclay assisting Deanna Troi with her bingo card sitting at the table next to the admiral's table. He could watch them over the twin baby buggy centerpieces made of many different types of chocolate. For a moment he thought that Deanna looked just lovely not to mention sexy in her dappled rose off-the-shoulder dress. However, Deanna was pointedly ignoring Will Riker at the moment. She was concentrating on the chocolate in front of her. And then, on Reg Barclay.

"Oh Deanna, just kiss Will and make up," Lwaxana loudly announced from the stage, annoyed with and tired of the games that her daughter and Will were playing.

"Mother!" Deanna huffed as she angrily stood. Quite a few people observed how like her mother, Deanna could be.

"All right, all right, everyone," Lwaxana smugly declared. "It's now _official_. The center square on your bingo card should read '_Mother!_'," Lwaxana self-righteously announced. "I just knew that my daughter was going to squeal it at some point during the party. So everyone now has a 'free' square even before we start comparing Beverly's many words of wit and wisdom to what is on your individual cards..."

Deanna quickly sat down, even as she internally lamented the fact that once again, her mother had embarrassed her. She did mentally let her mother know what she thought about her too. She then glared at Will for starting all of this by being jealous of Reg Barclay, of all people…

Will Riker wisely did not grin. Openly.

Lwaxana motioned toward some cadets waiting by a door. They were cadet interns that had been drafted into working the party by the head of Starfleet. "Bring in my present to Jean-Luc and Beverly."

Jean-Luc shifted in his seat uneasily, wondering what disaster was now about to unfold.

Will leaned over and chuckled at Jean-Luc's discomfiture. He told his former captain, "Jean-Luc, it could be worse."

"Please explain _how_," Picard darkly replied.

Will didn't need to say another word for the cadets had just guided into the room four anti-grav dollies holding what could best be described as a seven foot long and wide cube that looked remarkably like a gleaming, beeping black Borg cube. The cube also had sparkling lights on each side in pink and blue that flashed off and on, arranged in a large letter formation that read: TWINS!

Picard closed his eyes choosing not to believe that he was seeing what he was seeing. He unfortunately knew that he'd have to open them again.

Lwaxana started screeching. "That's not the way I had my present wrapped!" Remembering that she was the chief hostess, she took a deep breath, controlled herself and forced her best, diplomatic smile on her lips. She took a step back and cast a critical eye upon Borg monstrosity. "But the flashing lights are a nice touch."

Q stood up and bowed toward Beverly.

"Q!" Jean-Luc growled. _He just knew it had to be Q…_

Beverly stood, walked over to the table where Q was sitting with her husband, placed her arms about Q's shoulders, and simply, sweetly warned, _"Q?"_

Q didn't have to be telepathic to know what Beverly Howard Crusher Picard was referencing. "Beverly, I know that _I promised to behave._ But surely you knew that it's my nature to misbehave. I simply had to do at least one truly tasteless gesture. I had to do at least one thing that was god-like. My followers expect it of me!" he explained.

"Totally tasteless," Jean-Luc mentally observed even as he felt an overwhelming desire to burst out laughing.

"Well…" Beverly suddenly smiled, especially since she was sensing Jean-Luc's absurdist sense of humor about to break forth. "Just fix it," she ordered Q. And then she sent her husband an understanding, appreciative smile. He basked in it for a moment before he calmed down a little.

A moment later the cube was now wrapped in silvery star patterns, though it still had pink and blue flashing lights proclaiming the coming of the twins.

Guinan didn't bother to explain to anyone about Q. For they all must have heard about him by now.

Jean-Luc nobly refrained from making any remark to Q or Lwaxana.

Beverly walked up to the cube, peeled off some paper from an edge, stuck her hand inside of a docking port and shoved it into the large box. She pulled out several miniature admiral duty outfits in red or blue. With snaps.

"They're onesies for your twosies," Lwaxana proudly explained. "I got you two hundred sets for each twin."

"That ought to last about a week," Mildred mentioned to Cherry.

"Possibly. But probably not," Guinan added. For she had once had twins a few centuries ago and knew how quickly newborn babies could go through onesies.

"You shouldn't have," Beverly replied as she returned to her seat, wondering where she was going to put all of it. "Uh, thank you, Lwaxana."

"And Holt," Lwaxana quickly added. "Oh. They'll elongate as the babies grow, so the onesies should last at least until the twins actually turn one."

"Bingo!" Worf announced as he stood waving his card.

Lwaxana glared at the Klingon. "You're supposed to get five squares that _Beverly_ says in a row!"

Worf grumbled as he sat down, "Geordi, I thought that you said…"

Geordi grabbed the Klingon's card. "Worf, I'll play your card for you." He glanced over at a table behind Beverly. "Those bottles of liquor and wine look to be pretty impressive prizes."

Jean-Luc finally noticed the display of bottles and crates. A sneaking suspicion began to form as to where Lwaxana might have gotten the wine and the liquor.

"Thank heaven they're not from my cellar!" Winston Holt Wiley cheerily exclaimed as he found at least one thing to be thankful about when it came to hen parties.

Jean-Luc would put nothing past Lwaxana - including raiding his private wine cellar to provide the prizes for this shower. He mentally groaned as he considered the likelihood of this possibility - and what, if anything, might be left at his house.

"And let's show our thanks to Marie and Robert Picard for providing their wonderful wines and brandies for both the luncheon and the prizes," Lwaxana proudly announced, even as she sent Jean-Luc one of her most noble, misunderstood yet sorely put-upon glares.

At this moment Holt glanced down at his padd that was suddenly glowing on the banquet table. "Gentlemen," he rather loudly announced, "I need your assistance." He stood, motioning for Jean-Luc, Worf, Wesley, Will and Geordi to stand as well. "Starfleet business," he explained with a smile, to the room at large.

"Uh, Sir, may I stay?" Geordi hesitantly asked.

"Admiral, if you need me," Mr. Data added.

"No, Commanders. It's only urgent - not critical Starfleet business. You may stay." He pointed toward another table. "Captain Pulaski, come with us." He glanced over at his wife. "We'll return when we've finished this business."

Lwaxana plastered a very sweet, understanding smile on her face. "Of course, my dear." The way she tapped her foot indicated something else.

Picard mentally groaned again, ignoring Lwaxana's perturbation over her husband's pronouncement.

Holt quickly led his chosen officers away from the party and down the hall to his 'war' room. "Follow me!" he commanded, as he pushed a button. A paneled wall suddenly slid aside revealing a descending staircase.

They followed. And all found themselves in what could best be described as an admiral's hideaway; multiple entertainment view screen were on three of the walls. The room also had a shiney, mirrored room length bar, and a very ornate, antique poker table situated under a fancy brass chandelier.

"Kate, I've got a scotch that I think you'll enjoy…", Holt jovially announced. "All of you, help yourselves to whatever you want to drink. I pretty much have it all down here."

"And the Starfleet crisis?" Jean-Luc tartly asked as he looked about, and grasped the real purpose behind Holt's urgent 'Starfleet' business.

"I'd have committed hari-kari if I'd stayed upstairs one minute longer," Holt explained.

"A man after my own heart," Will remarked as he looked around and then motioned for Wesley to help him get everyone their usual drinks.

"There's some Canadien whiskey at the bar," Holt added. "But the really good stuff is the Aldebaran. Eh, Jean-Luc?" He paused then added, "Unless you'd rather go back upstairs?"

"No," Jean-Luc quickly replied. _Relieved_. "I love my wife, _but_…" Suddenly he found himself appreciating Holt's enlightened point of view when it came to baby showers. _For Robert was still stuck up above with no hope of reprieve..._ Of course, Jean-Luc hadn't realized that Beverly would announce at one point now that he was missing, the names of the godparents. _And that one of those names would be Q..._

"I'll convey your sentiments to Beverly," Kate Pulaski tartly added, accurately assessing Admiral Picard's quicksilver moods.

"She already knows," Jean-Luc calmly answered, not bothering to explain his psychic connection to this doctor. He knew that his privacy about his psychic connection with Beverly would annoy this nosy CMO.

"Cut the chit-chat, and let's get down to business," Holt barked. "Mr. Worf, would you do me the honor of the first deal?" Holt sat on the only throne-form chair at the poker table. All of the other chairs matched. But these arm chairs were of a much more simple design with red leather upholstery.

Worf grunted his acceptance as he sat down and picked up a new deck of cards with the fleet admiral's personal crest on the verso side.

Q suddenly appeared. "I'm sure it's just an oversight that you forgot to invite me, Holt."

Holt was about to protest, but then he thought about it for a second. "No trickery?" he demanded. He considered playing poker with Q some more. "Do you even know how to play poker?"

"Who do you think invented the game?" Q snarked back. "I know variations that you're teeny little mind has never imagined!"

"You'll just have to teach us when it's your turn to deal? Pretty please?" Kate too-politely asked as she relished the thought of playing with this imp. _And annoying Jean-Luc Picard at the same time._ She noted that Holt seemed to like this idea, too.

Q appreciated Kate Pulaski's sentiments. It brought out the ham in him. He prettily announced, "For you, lovely lady, I will do anything you might desire. While, I'll even stake you when you lose to me!" Q then eyed Jean-Luc's expressionless face. "_Mon petit chou_, why have you so disparaged this lovely lady to me, every time that you've mentioned her name?" he innocently asked, knowing full well that Captain Jean-Luc Picard had never voiced such words to him. "I find her to be absotively charming."

"I do not…", Jean-Luc quickly interrupted.

"Don't fib," Q just as quickly replied.

"The admiral does not fib!" Worf quickly roared.

"Whatever you say, Woofie," Q pleasantly acquiesced.

Jean-Luc just simply glared at Q for a second. And then he shrugged his shoulders as if he were simply acceding to Q's nonsense. He sat down and nodded over to Worf. Worf stopped envisioning Q's head on the end of his bat'leth.

"This should be epic," Riker quietly stated to Wesley as they joined their friends about the table, passing around the various drinks.

_Vulcan blue ale for Jean-Luc and Geordi. Jamesons pot still scotch for Kate and Holt. Prune juice for Worf. Near-beer for Wesley. A bottle of France's finest burgundy for Q. And for himself, Will fixed himself a real Tennessee bourbon, neat; for he'd never seen before a sapphire blue label on a bourbon bottle. He'd only heard about such a legendary drink..._

Winston harumphed even as he silently admired Captain Riker's hutzpah for picking one of the most expensive, not to mention rare, liquors in his collection._ At least the captain was smart enough not to have poured himself a double..._

For a moment, Jean-Luc ignored those around the table. He was sensing Beverly's emotions. And he was surprised by them. She wasn't angry over his disappearance. She was _envious…_

"The first winner gets to smoke a Cubana II cigar!" Holt proclaimed.

**=/\= ='/\'= =/\=**

"The mansion's not big enough," Beverly decided as she walked around the tables holding every imaginable thing that a baby could need. Or that a mother-to-be could want. She glanced over at Robert and Marie, amused by the picture they made. Between the two of them, they were trying to prevent two six-foot tall stuffed animals from falling over on to a playful Rene. One animal was a sehlat. The other was a targ. She shook her head considering just how many _large_ presents she had received. She waved her arms about. "We can't possibly get all of this stuff in it." She picked up a set of sterling silver baby safety pins even as she wondered why anyone in their right mind would have thought that as a mother, she'd use any kind of _pin_ with pointed, sharp edges around her babies. The fact that they were an additional gift from Lwaxana had not escaped Beverly's notice.

"Actually, Doctor Picard, I have calculated the total volume and weight of all of the presents. All of your gifts should fit into the bedroom suite that is north down the hall from your master suite," Data announced.

"That's where I'm sleeping!" Lwaxana protested. "With Holt!"

"I was told that you were departing," Data politely responded.

Guinan simply grinned and then patted Data on the back. For his ears only, she whispered, "Nicely done, Data." In a louder voice she added, "I guess that you'll just have to move, Lwaxana."

"Put it all in the nanny's room!" Lwaxana imperially retorted. _For she was not about to leave Beverly and her babies all alone with Guinan..._

Beverly considered this suggestion. "That room will do - for now." She touched a flat antique jeweler's case and opened it up once more. Inside, set into a fitted lining of ivory silk velvet which was showing quite a bit of wear, were two sets of English sterling child's size flatware. Six pieces total. Both sets had finely done hand-hammered repoussé work of charming storybook scenes on the handles. One set depicted bunny rabbits. The other set had squirrels. Guinan came over to her to examine the silverware as well.

"They're from a time when Beatrix Potter was around - Peter Rabbit and Squirrel Nutkin - two of her creations that I have always loved." Guinan stroked a spoon, as if remembering what it had once meant to her personally. Her voice was full of memories as she explained, "They were gifts to my twins from a dear friend and author, long gone, from a long time ago. I actually found them rather practical, too. If you use silver every day, it doesn't tarnish. Besides, back then, the Victorians were very fond of such sentimental gifts."

"Then you should save them for when your twins give you grandchildren," Beverly protested. For Beverly knew of all of Guinan's surviving children. Jean-Luc had told her about them during one memorable night of their honeymoon.

"After almost five hundred years, you'd have thought that Romy and Remy would have done so by now, if they were so inclined." Guinan mightily sighed. "They are just too much like their father." Guinan reached over and closed the case and placed it back into Beverly's hands. "Besides, you are more likely to see your twins' grandchildren before I ever see any of mine. They are yours, Beverly. Given with love."

"I know," Beverly whispered. "Thank you for everything - with love."

Guinan straightened out the folds of her sleeves and then glanced toward the outdoors where the few remaining guests were still milling about the terraces and a garden that was much smaller than those that Boothby maintained at Picard House. She was about to suggest something more when a loud voice interrupted her train of thought.

"Beverly!"

Both ladies looked toward the sound of this deep, commanding, masculine voice.

"Am I too late for the party?" James O'Malley Howard asked as he rushed to Beverly's side. And then he lightly kissed the admiral on the lips.

"Yes, Sir," Mr. Data announced even as he observed that Beverly Picard permitted this gesture.

Lwaxana instantly noted the grace of this man's form. Mildred bristled at his presumptiveness. Guinan hid her amusement. Cherry noted his fabulous blue eyes.

This pronouncement gave Jamie Howard a reason to pause, if only for a moment. Then he flashed his killer grin in Cherry's direction.

"Of course not," Lwaxana quickly spoke. She eyed the man before her taking in his wavy hair, his adorable dimples, his very charming smile and his over-all rakish gorgeousness. She also sensed his attraction to the very pregnant lady admiral and couldn't help herself. She coquettishly drawled, "Beverly, you've been keeping secrets. Naughty, naughty."

"He's my cousin," Beverly properly announced.

"_Kissin'_ cousin," Mildred muttered under her breath.

Beverly gave the ladies a quick explanation of Jamie Howard's place in her life. She did leave off a few minor details, especially when it came to her personal intimate relationship with Jamie from almost seven years ago. And from the years before Jack.

Lwaxana sensed _that_ connection anyway.

Two floors down, Jean-Luc stiffened as he felt a mixed rush of Beverly's emotions flood through him. "My wife needs me," he stiffly announced to one and all as he reluctantly folded his hand. But he drained his whiskey glass before he stood and left behind his chips.

As more people milled closer, curious about this newcomer, Captain Howard continued to display how charming he could be. "It's two mobiles of all the _Enterprises,_" Jamie explained as he placed the cutely wrapped boxes on the table.

"Numbers twenty-three and twenty-four," Data automatically noted in a clear, expressionless voice.

"What?" Captain Howard asked.

"So far, Mrs. Picard has received twenty-four crib mobiles as gifts," Data explained.

Mildred smiled as she noted Data's announcement of Beverly's marital status instead of stating her Starfleet rank. Her favorite android was becoming more like a human being than he realized, for he was beginning to correctly analyze and use human emotional subtleties.

"I'm sure that Jean-Luc will use the _Enterprise_," Lwaxana added lest this handsome hunk get the wrong impression from the android.

"I'm sure he will," Mildred pleasantly agreed, even as she noticed the anxious husband approaching his wife from across the room - not that Jean-Luc would admit to anyone in a million years that he was jealous of Jamie Howard's former relationship with his wife.

Lwaxana extended her hand toward Jamie. "I'm Lwaxana Troi, senior Ambassadress to Betazed," she coyly mentioned.

"Lwaxana Troi-_Wiley_ was one of the hostesses of the shower," Guinan just had to add as she waved her hand in Jamie's direction, too. "I'm Guinan - _and I'm not married."_

This upstart captain impressed his lips against both sets of their knuckles as he bowed. And then he glanced over at Jean-Luc who by now had placed his arm possessively about Beverly's waist.

Mildred stuck her hand in front of Jamie's face. "And I'm not married, either. I'm Mildred Krebs - Holt's cousin," she added, lest this captain think that she was just a mere mortal. Jamie kissed her hand too.

Beverly deliberately ignored all the emotional undercurrents swirling about her. "Jamie, thank you for your presents. You didn't have to…"

"Of course I did, Cuz…", Captain Howard glibly protested.

Jean-Luc disguised his grimace as best he could when he spoke. "Thank you, Captain Howard. My wife and I appreciate your kindness."

Beverly impishly bestowed upon Jamie a dazzling smile. "Will you come to lunch tomorrow, Jamie? There's something that I need to discuss with you." And just in case Jean-Luc was forming an incorrect idea, Beverly devilishly added, "Is Kate still playing poker downstairs, Jean-Luc? I want her to come to lunch as well."

Lieutenant Commander S'Rock stepped forward, suddenly desiring that he was not such an efficient adjutant. After finishing what he could accomplish in Admiral Beverly Picard's office, he had returned to the party and was now waiting with his wife by a far table, to receive his orders about what to do with all of the presents. "Shall I summon Captain Pulaski for you, Admiral Picard?"

"Yes, please do, Commander," Beverly ordered. Suddenly the mother-to-be was replaced by the Starfleet admiral. In spite of the medical orders from Dr. Bolt, Beverly still had Starfleet business to finish.

Even though he suspected that he might be taking his life as well as his career into his own hands, Commander S'Rock just had to mention for he would consider himself to be remiss in his duty if he did not, "Admiral Picard, you have an appointment at 1330 hours tomorrow. Shall I reschedule with Dr. Bolt?"

Before Jean-Luc could even protest such a suggestion, Beverly wearily sighed, "No. Norah wouldn't let me rest in peace if I did." She shook her head as if to clear it, and then glanced back at her cousin. "Can you make dinner instead, Jamie?"

"Of course. Anything for you, _Red."_

Jean-Luc quickly turned into a most concerned husband. He was sensing too well what Beverly was suddenly feeling now that the rush of adrenalin for the party was dissipating. "_Mon coeur_, it's time to rest. You've had a wearying time of it." He looked over at Captain Howard and coolly announced, "We dine at 1900 hours." He glanced over at S'Rock. "Inform Captain Pulaski, Commander S'Rock." Then he directed his stare at Mr. Data and ordered, "Mr. Data, would you please assist Mildred with whatever she needs to have done in order to finish? Also, tell Captain Riker and his officers that I will talk to them either tonight or tomorrow morning." He didn't pay attention to Mr. Data expressing his acceptance of these instructions for he already knew what the android would do. He turned in the direction of all the hostesses and slightly bowed toward them. "Thank you, ladies. You threw a wonderful party with a most delicious luncheon. Beverly and I are grateful." And with that remark he hit his comm badge and ordered two to be beamed over directly to Picard House.

"Is he always like that?" Jamie just had to ask of Lwaxana as the admirals sparkled away.

"Protective of Beverly?" Mildred tartly answered. "You'd better believe it, _Bub_." She put her hand on Lwaxana's arm and tugged the reluctant lady away, pulling her toward the descending staircase. "Come along, _Loxie_. Let's go plague your loving husband." As an afterthought she called out over her shoulder as they walked away, "Mr. Data, do join us when you're finished. You can now fulfill one of Captain Pulaski's deepest, darkest wishes."

Captain Howard wasn't quite sure. But he thought that he heard Mildred Krebs cackle.


	6. Chapter 6: Anticipation

_**A.N.: Don't worry. The babies are coming. Just not quite yet. In the meantime, Beverly is trying to balance impending motherhood with her duty to Starfleet.**_

_**De-Tached: Story 5: Life with Beverly**_

_**Chapter 6: Anticipation **_

**=/\= ='/\'= =/\=**

"What did you say?" she murmured.

Jean-Luc Picard moving silently (or so he thought) about their blue and cream bedroom was about to put on a clean white shirt and tan slacks after taking his sonic shower. For Beverly was napping after her doctor's appointment with Dr. Bolt, and he did not wish to disturb her. Yet he must have done something; made some sort of noise. For he now saw her eyes following his movements about the semi-darkened room.

"What did you say?" she repeated with a slightly stronger voice

He sat down on the side of the bed, paused for a moment to study her face, decided that he was pleased with what he saw there, and then he leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I didn't say anything important, _mon coeur._" She offered him her hand. He held it. Studied it. And then he placed a light, lingering kiss against her palm. He felt her pulse quicken.

"Maybe you thought it. You definitely thought something most _interesting_," she countered.

"A man cannot be held responsible for what he thinks," he reminded her. His voice was soft and teasing, as he remembered other times and other accusations that he'd denied with the very same excuse.

"Guess again," she answered back. "I'm a wife, now. I can blame you for whatever I wish, whenever I wish. I don't even need to be rational about it - especially considering my condition."

"Ah yes, your _condition._" He pressed both of their hands against her belly, slowly rubbing then stopping to feel the kicking movements from within.

The pleased smile that she bestowed on him captured his heart all over again. "Our babies are active right now. It must be their play time." She toyed with the belt to his grey robe.

"And here, I thought that it was their nap time." He noticed where her fingers lightly touched him.

"Maybe for me. Not them." She patted her tummy again. "They do have minds of their own, Jean-Luc."

"Then we will just have to teach them to obey us."

Beverly laughed at this conceit. "So says every parent _before_ the babies are born." She reached up and pulled him down to her so that she could more easily kiss him. "Since they are playing…" She let her kisses tell him what she really desired. And in response to what he wasn't willing to admit that he'd been thinking only moments before.

"Didn't Dr. Bolt say that we couldn't …"

"Hush, my love." She pressed her finger against his lips. "I know it will be a while before we can _all _the pleasures prove. But that doesn't mean that we are denied _every_ pleasure…"

He pulled her against his body and kissed her sweetly; then with more passion at her urging. She kissed him energetically. And so he laid her gently back against the pillows.

"If this is what my lady wishes…"

Her response was a smile that could still steal his breath away.

She moved aside the sheet covering her body to reveal that she was only wearing a loose shift. And then she lifted her arms to him.

But Jean-Luc had other ideas on how to pleasure his wife. His gentle hands lifted the turquoise silk as he sought to please her first. He knew just what to stroke and where to lick…

Beverly moaned as her passion slowly grew under her husband's ministrations. _What a delicious way to spend an afternoon…_

**=/\= ='/\'= =/\=**

"Beverly," he called out as he walked from the library toward their family dining room. "Did you actually look at this list of gifts that we have received?"

"Not really," she answered back. "I stopped reading after the sixth listing of a 'Moses' basket. We'll keep the two that have the built-in anti-grav units. The rest I guess we will donate. Much as I think that those reed baskets are so cute for carrying babies, there is no way that I can carry two of them at a time without anti-grav support." She stuck her head out the door and looked down the hallway. She saw him standing under a wall sconce, reading the padd. "Are you coming in? Or should I give your excuses to Kate?" She distinctly heard him _harrumph._ Then she knowingly laughed. "I think that you're more upset by my asking Kate to dinner than you are about me asking Jamie to dine with us."

"What?"

"If you really want something to worry about I could always encourage Jamie."

He came and stood by her side, still looking at the padd. "From what I've seen of your cousin, he doesn't need any encouragement."

"Oh, so you did notice." She kissed his cheek then brushed a piece of lint away from his dress jacket. "Is that why you're dressed in full admiral regalia?"

"You indicated to me that this dinner was about Starfleet business. Ergo…"

She laughed again. "I'm not wearing a dress uniform."

He glanced down at the flowing Grecian style smoky chiffon gown and sequined slippers. "You are on maternity leave. You can wear what you wish since you will not be on duty for months to come."

"Speaking of that, why did you order us transported away from the shower yesterday? You know that I have sound reasons to prefer surface travel over transportation."

He turned a little pink. "Dr. Bolt suggested it." He turned a little bit red. "And Dr. Pulaski seconded the idea."

"They _both _were scanning me at the party?"

"I believe so. But it was Geordi's scanning of you that alerted them to the rather unexpected fluctuations in your blood pressure."

"But I felt fine."

He clasped her hand. "You were having a good time. You were excited. I think that if you paused to rest, you might have realized it, but…"

She interrupted him. "Thank you, Jean-Luc." She kissed his cheek.

"For what?" he asked, even as he treasured her simple touch.

"For caring so much - and for not making it obvious to me, at least during the party." She wiped her lipstick off of his cheek. "Now, why don't you go pick a nice bottle of wine for yourself and our guests, while I go see what Ludvig can do to make sparkling water taste exciting."

"I fear we may be losing him."

"As long as you keep Bronislawa as your cadet intern, I don't have any fear of that." She went into the family kitchen to check on the dinner.

Sighing, Jean-Luc picked up his padd and pulled up his wine cellar inventory. Then he paused to look at the round table formally set with four place sittings. The settings had four crystal goblets of varying heights and purposes, not to mention four various sized spoons, three differing forks and knives, plus an after-dinner spoon resting at the top of each plate. The bone china antique plates were nestled inside of Sheffield chargers. Fine linen napkins were enfolded into sterling napkin rings resting on top of the plates since it was to be a served dinner and the courses would be brought and removed during the meal. There was a low Steuben crystal bowl holding a mass of pink to gold floating lilies. Four low sterling candlesticks were set at the compass points. In short, it was a very _formal_ table setting - even more formal than the typical captain's mess that Captain Picard had occasionally held on board the _Enterprise._ Jean-Luc considered the possibility that Beverly actually did have Starfleet business to discuss with her fellow doctors, considering the kind of dinner that she had ordered for this evening.

"Good evening, Admiral," a low voice uttered behind his back. He must have looked surprised, because this cadet quickly added, "I did not mean to startle you, Sir. I only came in to fill the water goblets."

Picard studied the somewhat short, thin, blond teenager standing before him. "It's Cadet Edvin Nyqvist, isn't it?"

The young man hid his surprise that the Superintendent of the Academy knew his name. "Yes, Sir."

"You're a second year cadet, majoring in the agri-sciences, aren't you?"

This time he let his surprise show. "Yes, Sir. At least, that's my focus as of now. It might change once I get a space rotation, Sir."

"Nothing wrong with wanting to have your feet firmly planted on the ground, cadet. My brother is a vintner."

"I know, Sir."

Picard nodded toward the table. "Continue with your duties, cadet. But, may I ask what are you doing here - in my house?"

The cadet started filling up the water glasses, adding a curled strip of Risian lime to each after it was filled. He poured sparkling water into the lone goblet at Beverly's position. Then he lit the candles. "Oh, Ludvig asked me to come and serve tonight. I used to work in my family's restaurant before I came to the Academy, so he knows that I have the experience to serve a formal dinner. Ludvig's some sort of distant cousin though I am not quite sure exactly where he stands on the Belgian side of the family tree. Anyway, he used to often come and help my pappa in the kitchen when I was younger. So I am always happy to help him in return." The lad relaxed enough to genuinely smile at the admiral. "I'm glad you brought him back to Earth, Admiral Picard. Aside from the fact that he is good company, he makes the best Kladdkaka anyone on my side of the family has ever tasted." The admiral raised an eyebrow. "The chocolate sticky cake that Admiral Beverly likes."

"Yes, it is rather good." Jean-Luc paused for a moment, punched something on his padd, and then handed it to the cadet. "Why don't you bring up these wines from the cellar. Unless you think that they might not be suitable for tonight's dinner."

The cadet looked over the list and nodded. "I'll bring them up right away, Sir." He left.

Beverly walked back into the dining room as if to check over everything one more time.

Jean-Luc grinned as he embraced his wife, using his thumb to wipe away a few chocolate crumbs from Beverly's lips.

"What?" Not that she minded Jean-Luc's touch.

"I take it that we are having chocolate sticky cake for dessert?"

"No. I think we're having crème brulee. But Ludvig always keeps a few slices of that cake in the kitchen pantry for me, just in case I have a craving."

"Well, eat to your heart's content," Jean-Luc suggested.

Beverly froze. Suddenly, she was suspicious. And angry. "Don't tell me that Norah told you that she thought I hadn't gained enough weight! I feel as big as an admiral's yacht."

"Not according to Dr. Bolt."

Beverly frowned. "I specifically told Dr. Bolt not to discuss the results of my visit this afternoon with you. I didn't want you worrying over silly nothings."

"Dr. Bolt told me nothing specific about your physical. However she did _suggest_ a few things to me." He slammed his hand against the top of a dining chair. He could be angry too. _And worried._ "Beverly, I am your husband. I have the right to know how you are doing! The fact that all your doctors placed you on maternity leave almost a month a head of time should have been sufficient incentive for you to tell me what is going on with you!"

"Trouble in paradise?" a slightly mocking voice called out from the hall doorway.

"Of course _she'd_ be early," he cursed to himself. "Captain Pulaski." He curtly nodded as he still gripped the blue padded back of the dining chair.

Beverly pulled herself together - just barely. "Oh, it's good to see you, Kate."

"Normally, I'd agree that it is good to see you too, Beverly. But for once, and I find myself having difficulty saying these words out loud - _your husband is in the right_." She softened her voice. "Do you really need me to tell you that you need to get your blood pressure under control? Not to mention the edema? You're not indestructible, Beverly. And you're not as young as you used to be."

"I know that. And I am taking care of myself."

"_Saying_ it and _doing_ it _are two entirely different things_," Kate emphatically pronounced. Her voice softened as she stepped closer to Beverly. "I became pregnant when I was a little older than you, Beverly. And I thought that I knew what I was doing too - what was best for me and the babe. I didn't." She moved even closer to Beverly. "I was performing a delicate heart surgery on an Andorian when suddenly it became a crisis on top of a complication on top of another crisis. And what should have been an hour operation at best, turned into a day long marathon. I could have brought in substitute surgeons. But the man was my patient. And my ego told me that I had to be the surgeon that saved his life. In the end, I did save the man's life. But the cost was too great. I miscarried afterwards. Even though I'd been warned about standing on my feet for any length of time, I never really heeded those words. You see I didn't really think that all those doctors really meant what they were saying. They were just telling it to me because they were supposed to do so_." _Her sad smile touched Beverly's heart."I didn't just lose my baby that day. I lost my husband as well. You see, he never could forgive me for my hubris…" Her voice trailed off. "I never forgave myself either…"

"I never knew…" Beverly placed her hand on Kate's blue clad arm. The lady was wearing her dress uniform jacket.

"The point is, let your husband fuss. Be glad that he does fuss. And care. Stop worrying about your duty and being the best and most perfect doctor in Starfleet. Focus on being only a mother right now. The rest of it isn't going any where. It will be there when you are ready to return to Starfleet Medical."

Jean-Luc handed Beverly his handkerchief even as he maneuvered the dining chair around so that Beverly could easily sit in it.

Beverly sat down, then blew her nose. Then she began to cry some more. Jean-Luc debated for a moment whether he should try to comfort her when suddenly a big man barreled into the room crying, "Beverly - what has he done to ya?" He knelt down in front of Beverly trying to take her into his arms. Beverly resisted.

"Jean-Luc!" Beverly sobbed, turning toward her husband and lifting her arms toward him. Reluctantly the other dinner guest stood up and let Jean-Luc take the position.

"For you information, Jean-Luc didn't do anything - except the obvious. _I_ was the one that made Beverly cry," Captain Kate Pulaski remarked as she watched with amusement as this other captain tried to not appear idiotic in front of the two admirals - not to mention herself. "You're rather quick when it comes to jumping to conclusions, aren't you, Captain Howard?"

"Captain Pulaski, it's been a while," he curtly remarked as he nodded at the lady. He was wearing his dress uniform as well. And he was beginning to think that all of the rumors about Kate Pulaski just might be based on facts.

Beverly suddenly stood. "Excuse me," she announced, and then dashed down the hall toward the elevator.

"Better you than me going after her," Kate advised Jean-Luc. A second later Jean-Luc was running down the hall after his wife.

At this moment a young man carrying a tray with three wine bottles on it entered the room and stopped when he saw the two captains standing there. He placed the tray on the sideboard and then stood, as if awaiting orders.

"Uncork whatever the white one is," Kate ordered. "Then open up the reds and let them breathe - if they need it." She checked the place cards for her name, and then picked up her white wine goblet. "Pour," she commanded as she held out her glass to the cadet server. "I think it's going to be that kind of dinner party. We're going to need all the wine we can drink," she advised her fellow doctor.

**=/\= ='/\'= =/\=**

"Why do I eat chocolate on an empty stomach?" she wailed. "I know it doesn't agree with me any more…"

"Because it was _empt_y," he suggested.

She found enough strength to give him a good dose of a Howard glare, even as she bent her neck so that her husband could administer an anti-nausea hypospray. She watched him administer one to himself as well. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" she sobbed. "No other husband in the universe would be so kind and understanding and willing to put up with…"

"There, there, _mon coeur…" _He pulled her into his arms and tried to soothingly stroke her shoulders. "The miracle is that I did something to deserve you…"

"No, I don't deserve you," she cried back.

"_Mon coeur…"_

"This is nauseating," a voice opined from the open doorway.

Pulling away from her husband, Beverly turned around and scowled at the woman standing in the doorway.

"Oh, don't mind me," Lwaxana airily added, waving her hand just a little bit. Turquoise sleeves fluttered with her movements. "We are not going to interrupt your dinner party. Holt is taking me out to dinner, and then we're going to some _Fiendish_ diplomatic function."

"I think you mean the _Acfiendisi_ reception. Beverly and I were invited as well, but we had pressing Starfleet business to attend to this evening so we had to decline."

"Holt doesn't get to use that excuse more than once a week when I'm around," Lwaxana tartly stated. "Although, if I were to get pregnant…" She suddenly stopped and gazed daggers at Jean-Luc. "Stop shuddering, Jean-Luc Picard! It's not _that_ horrible of an idea." She paused and thought about it some more. "Though Holt as a new daddy again just might be…" She turned and stepped back into the hallway as she slyly smiled and asked, "Shall I entertain your guests for you, Beverly?"

"No!" Beverly hastily squeaked. "We're just getting ready to rejoin them, now!"

"I'd like another chance to talk to that very charming cousin of yours…"

"No, you don't," Holt gruffly announced from behind his wife's back. "He's Jean-Luc's problem - not mine." As an afterthought he added, "Don't wait up for us. Have a good dinner." With that, he put his arm through Lwaxana's arm, and guided her down the hallway toward the back stairs away from the direction of the family dining room.

"Why do I get the feeling that we're smack dab in the middle of some sort of bastardized Molière sex farce," Beverly mused.

"Lwaxana does engender that feeling in people," Jean-Luc concluded, "though I'm not so sure that she should be likened to the greats like Molière…"

"You're such a French snob, Jean-Luc." Then she lightly swatted his arm before she motioned for him to escort her back to their guests. Then she thought about it for a moment, and went for their bathroom instead.

Jean-Luc walked slowly about their bedroom, absentmindedly picking up used clothing and tossing it into the refresher. At least he had learned how to control his instinctual responses whenever he sensed that Beverly had the need to use the bathroom which seemed to be increasing daily. There was such a thing as too much sharing.

He then considered her parting words. _French snob, indeed!_

**=/\= ='/\'= =/\=**

_Mushroom soup, spring salad, a fish course, a spinach soufflé, a Belgian stew, a palate cleansing sorbet, a pork roast, a crème brulee, sweet fruit and exotic nuts, and then finally little savories_ - that had been the dinner menu.

Not since their Parisian vacation at Christmas, had Beverly dined so formally, or so well. She didn't bother to know all the fancy French names for the courses. She was sure that if she asked Jean-Luc, he'd educate her.

She also had a suspicion that when Jean-Luc had ordered three bottles of wine, he'd had a very deliberate course of action in mind. For Jean-Luc had barely touched any of the wines that had been poured for him during the dinner. She doubted that his plausible reason for abstaining from drinking from all three bottles was because he did not care for the wines. In fact, the only thing that he seemed to really notice about each wine was how much their two guests could drink between them. The only other thing that Beverly noticed about the wine was about how much of it she could not drink. She'd gone years without touching real alcohol and hadn't noticed that at all. But now that she couldn't drink, she missed it. _Such is life…_

She smiled at the blond cadet as he served the two captains their coffee, even as she poured for herself and Jean-Luc their herbal tea from a small silver teapot and service.

She took a sip, decided that they'd had a surprisingly pleasant dinner so far, and then determined that it was now time to deal with the Starfleet business part of the evening.

"Kate, Jamie…"

"It was a lovely dinner, Beverly. I appreciate the chance to get to know you better, even if all that we've discussed so far is the status of your former sickbay, how Mrs. Beck's due date is so close to yours, Holt's latest marital mistake, how well-run the _Enterprise_ is without either of you, and the odds of Reginald Barclay ever getting a second date with anyone." Kate just loved to watch Jean-Luc grind his teeth just a little bit. Then Kate slyly glanced over at Captain Howard. "And all that I've learned about you, Captain Howard, other than the fact that you are a lady's man with a reputation which actually eclipses that of Will Riker, is that you like fine wine too. And that you have excellent table manners. You do your mother proud." Kate added some cream to her coffee, then added, almost as if an afterthought, "You never even mentioned how brilliant you were at Wolf 359, saving the lives of so many of the wounded… Quite heroic too, even if I say so myself. I do believe Starfleet gave you a few medals for your actions."

"It seems you know more about me that I do of you, Doctor Pulaski." Jamie flashed one of his best smiles in Kate's direction.

However, after months of serving under Captain Riker, Kate was almost totally immune to being around a too-charming man. "That's because I am not the center of my universe," Kate observed, even as she still drank her coffee.

Beverly ignored the chit chat. She cleared her throat. "It's time to discuss business," Beverly announced, putting down her tea cup. When she had their attention she continued. "As you know, I am the head of the Hospital Starship Fleet. We're building four major hospital starships plus a dozen so-called smaller 'triage' ships. In approximately twenty months time, the first two of the big hospital starships will be ready." Both captains eyed her expectantly. "I want the two of you to be in charge of the _Agnodice_ and the _Galen_." On their somewhat stunned expressions, Beverly sipped her tea, and then casually stated, "The ships are named after one of the first female physicians and one of the early Greco-Roman male doctors."

"I did recognize the names, Beverly," Kate just as casually replied. "I'll have to discuss this with Will. I imagine that you'll want me fairly soon. And I can't see effectively supervising such a project from the _Enterprise. _I don't want to leave the man feeling deserted." Kate calmly sipped some more coffee.

"Are you talking about us captaining each starship, or just being the CMO in charge of it?" Jamie asked.

"I'd like to say _both_ if you think it's feasible." Beverly glanced over at Jean-Luc to see what he thought, for the connection between them was revealing no emotion at the moment. "Though first, I want you to pull the ships together. The design, the crew, all medical personnel, etc. I'm looking for doctors and staff from all of the Federation's members. They don't have to be Starfleet. In fact, odds are that only the crew that runs the ship will be Starfleet. Most of the medical staff will probably be civilians. If you know of any that you'd like to recommend…"

Jamie quickly answered. "I'll come up with some suggestions. But as for being both captain and CMO - we can do one or the other. I don't see how it's possible to be both of them."

"I want the captains of these ships to be doctors if possible," Beverly firmly stated.

"Won't work, Red. Sure on small medical ferries with frequent ports-o-call, that could work. And has worked. I've done it in the past. But on galaxy class starships?"

"I'm willing to give it a try," Kate countered.

"Then you'll fail," Jamie answered back. "No one person except maybe your Mr. Data, can do both jobs simultaneously and do them well. It's just not humanly possible."

Beverly mulled over his statements. "I do see your position. But I'd like to try it."

"Red, it's not that I don't think it's a good plan. It's just that I've been both a starship captain and a CMO at the same time. You just simply can't battle the Borg and be in sickbay at the same time. I've done it and it didn't work. Every crewman that died in my sickbay when I was on the bridge battling the Borg - I felt that guilt, Red. It nearly broke me."

"I know, Jamie. I read what happened to you after Wolf 359," Beverly sympathetically replied.

"Besides, Beverly," Jamie argued, "there just are not that many qualified CMO's out there who do have command experience. I'd be shocked if there were more than a half dozen or so."

"Actually, there are twenty-six in Starfleet who could qualify."

"Beverly, what's more important - command experience or medical experience?" Jean-Luc's question was quietly spoken but it cut through the air.

"It would depend upon the situation," she argued back.

"My point, precisely. When you defeated the Borg, you pulled it off because you had absolute trust and faith in your medical staff. And because defeating the Borg was vital to the survival of the _Enterprise_ than your being in Sickbay at that same moment. But how many command decisions are that life-and-death clear cut? What if you have an epidemic _and_ attacking Cardassians at the same time. Starfleet ship captains spend years studying battle tactics. But a doctor? How many have more than just a few months at command school, at best." With every word that Jean-Luc spoke he could feel Beverly's irritation over his words. _And the fact that she acknowledged the truth of them.._.

"Jean-Luc could be right," Kate said, surprising the hell out of Jean-Luc (and Beverly) with her support. "I've been to command school. And I've captained a few ships here and there between the starbases, though nothing approaching the business of a galaxy class ship. But I believe that my real tactical training came from my playing a few chess games here and there rather than from any command course. But if I had to chose between fighting a battle or saving lives in sickbay - for that, I don't think I'm qualified. I know that I'd be in sickbay. And where would that leave the bridge?"

Beverly nodded, accepting the arguments. For she'd been debating these matters with herself for quite some time now. "I'd like to continue this discussion some more. We'll have dinner again. Present your arguments then," Beverly ordered.

Kate pulled a tricorder out of her pocket and quickly scanned Beverly. "You're exhausted. Which is precisely why you were put on maternity leave early, Doctor Picard." She glanced over at Jean-Luc. "Nothing to panic about, Admiral Picard. Just make sure that she gets an undisturbed night's rest - for the remainder of her pregnancy if you can." Kate checked her tricorder again. "Oh, and make sure that you take all your medicines, Beverly."

Beverly ignored Kate's words even though she knew that Jean-Luc would not forget them. She focused instead on what was important to here. "This CMO versus captain issue is something that I have to decide, Jean-Luc," Beverly argued with her husband. For she sensed his concern not to mention his arguments, rising. "I won't let Holt and a bunch of bureaucrats make this decision for me."

"Let the two of us look over all the facts, Red," Jamie suggested. "We can then discuss it with you at our next dinner. Let's make it a week from now…" He glanced over at Captain Pulaski.

She nodded. "I've been told that the _Enterprise_ is going to be at Utopia Planetia for at least twelve more days."

Beverly nodded. "A week from now, then. Here. Same time. Though let's make it a bit less formal of a dinner. I don't want any of my doctors accusing me of still conducting Starfleet business even if I just have you all over for a meal and some friendly conversation." She stood. "Goodnight. And thank you for coming." She smiled at both captains before she let her husband assist her down the hall to the elevator.

Jean-Luc held his tongue during their ride up to their bedroom. "I'll go take care of our guests' departure." He paused for a moment, trying to judge Beverly's mood. He was sensing many different emotions. "Would you like anything?"

Beverly sighed, giving in to her wants. "Oh, I guess some more herbal tea. Make it that peach ginger blend. And some cake. With some fruit on the side - maybe some raspberries? Or Risian cherries if we have any..."

"Whatever you wish, _mon coeur." _With this, Jean-Luc left her. He was not that surprised to find Captain Howard and Captain Pulaski waiting for him in the dining room.

"Captains." He curtly nodded in their direction as he sat back down at the dining table and poured himself another cup of tea. He observed that the after dinner port had been poured. He stared at Kate expecting her to tell him what he needed to know about his wife. "Make it quick."

"Beverly's fine, Jean-Luc," Kate firmly stated. "She's just got to closely monitor her blood pressure and her electrolytes. And she has to watch what she eats. And you have to make sure that she gets enough rest. There's a remote chance of preeclampsia." She squarely looked at him at he blanched at that word. Kate decided that Jean-Luc knew what it was and how serious a condition it could be. She didn't have to go over the gory details with him. Yet. "Has Beverly complained about any headaches?"

"Not to me. Though she has complained about sore ribs, and some physical discomfort when the twins are 'playing'. Commander S'Rock told me how uncomfortable she was when she went to the UP and back. She's had trouble finding restful positions."

"Red's gained - what - 10 kilos?" Jamie observed.

"Something like that," Kate agreed.

"Well, that's only a little on the low side for just one baby. But not so good when you're carrying twins," Jamie explained. "You sure about the due date? She looks further along than 26 weeks."

"Beverly looks so big." Jean-Luc appreciated their concern, but he was uncomfortable with it.

"Your wife always was too slender, Jean-Luc. So any weight gain seems to be out of proportion to her body," Kate explained. Then she grinned. "Something tells me that you don't hang around Beverly too much when she's with a bunch of doctors talking 'shop'." Kate finished off her last half-glass of wine. "Time to go, Jamie. We've got some work to do. Good night, Jean-Luc. You've got some work to do yourself, in keeping your wife from going crazy these next two months. And I don't envy you that job at all. Some of Beverly's former staff have told me a few wild tales about your wife's stubbornness. You'll have your hands full." She stood and walked to the door. "And as for my supporting you, well, you can thank me later." She walked out into the hallway and disappeared.

"Aggravating woman," Captain Howard observed as he finished off the last of his wine, too.

Not that surprised by this assessment of Captain Kate Pulaski, Jean-Luc politely said nothing other than, "Captain Pulaski may be an excellent doctor but she can be a difficult woman," to Captain Howard and then he bid the man good night.

He considered what it was for which he needed to thank Captain Pulaski. Then he went into the kitchen to gather up a tray full of tea and desserts for his pregnant bride. He placed the tray, along with a snifter of brandy for himself, in the dumbwaiter, and pushed the button sending it upstairs.

**=/\= ='/\'= =/\=**

She twisted. She turned. And then she got up four times during the night to go to the bathroom.

One did not have to be psychically linked to his bride to know that she could not find a comfortable position in which to sleep this night. He wondered if there was anything that he could do about that. _Or maybe Data and Geordi…_

Dawn had yet to break when Beverly turned onto her side facing her husband, and finally whispered, "Am I crazy to want doctors to captain hospital starships, Jean-Luc?"

"You could do it, Beverly. And probably Kate. I don't know enough about Captain Howard to assess his command capabilities."

"Holt seems to approve of him."

"Well, when it comes to picking those who can captain starships, Holt's a pretty good judge."

"You should know," Beverly teased for Jean-Luc had told her the story of how he had found out that he was to become the captain of the _Enterprise._

Jean-Luc thought for a while. And then asked the question he'd been dreading to ask since Beverly had first told him about the Hospital Starship project. "Beverly, you're not considering taking over one of the hospital ships yourself, are you?"

"I would love to do it." She reached over and stroked Jean-Luc's face for she sensed rather than saw his dismay at her words. Then she said the words that quieted his quickly beating heart. _"But, I am not going to do it, Jean-Luc._ Our family will come first, my darling. Though, as it is, I'm going to be away from our family quite a bit just to inspect things once the fleet gets up and running."

"I see," he quietly answered.

She knew he was relieved. She smiled. And he could see as well as feel it in the darkness. His unspoken fears vanished.

"If it's going to be a really long trip, I would like to take the twins with me. And you as well, if I can tear you away from the Academy. Otherwise, you'll just have to be the parent when I am gone." She chuckled at that thought.

"Don't you think I can do it?" he protested.

She snuggled closer to him. "Looking after our twins is not quite the same as dealing with cadets, Jean-Luc."

"I don't see that much difference."

She chuckled at his words. "Actually, there are quite a few interested parties wanting to watch you be a parent to our twins when I am not around. Some of them actually think that the experience might help you be more sympathetic about what life is like for Starfleet officers and crew who are actually mothers." She patted his cheek. "After all, there are not many mothers in Starfleet who have a support team like ours."

"Considering that our support team is Lwaxana, Guinan and Mildred, I am not so sure that it is such a good thing."

"Should I tell them in the morning that you said that?" she teased.

He shuddered at the possibility, and then started rubbing Beverly's tummy, for he could feel how active their children suddenly were inside of her womb.

"Sleep…" he murmured, pressing his mouth close to her belly. "Sleep…"

All Beverly could think was that if such a command worked for the Borg, why not for her twins as well…

**=/\= ='/\'= =/\=**

Beverly was almost afraid to step into the suite known as the 'Nanny's Rooms'. But she had been summoned by Mildred. And Commander S'Rock. And Guinan. And Lwaxana.

Putting on a cheerful front, Beverly opened the door. The newly redecorated set of rooms which consisted of a sitting room, a bedroom and a private bath with a walk-in closet, had been decorated in neutral tones of cream and ivory. Beverly wanted whomsoever was going to actually be living there to have options about the décor.

"You feeling okay?" was the first thing out of Mildred's mouth.

"I ate some oatmeal for breakfast, and so far, it has not disagreed with me," Beverly dutifully replied for she learned that when Mildred was inquisitive about her condition, it was just simpler to answer the question rather than to try and protest it.

"You got some good loot," Lwaxana observed as she walked around the mountains of clothing, toys, stuffed animals, linens, crib sets, bassinettes and more.

Mildred ignored Lwaxana. "We've sorted it all by usefulness, possible usefulness, cuteness, what-is-it, and what-were-they-thinking?"

"Thank you, I think," Beverly agreed.

She walked over to two beautiful, hand-carved wood cradles. One was oak, and the other was walnut. Both were antique, though from different centuries. Marie and Robert had brought them from LaBarre since they were the Picard ancestral cradles. Beverly had sniffled when she'd first seen them for she knew how much her children meant to the Picards. And how much this would mean to Jean-Luc…

Guinan came up to Beverly and lightly touched one of the cradles. It was a platform style so it moved back and forth rather than rocked. "Did Marie tell you which one was Jean-Luc's cradle?"

"No. I don't think that she knew."

"Well, why don't you show me where you want the cradles placed in the nursery. I thought that we could put Mildred's rocker in between them."

"I was thinking by the French doors." She opened the door to the nursery and walked into it, looking around and considering all the furniture positions. "Should we keep the cribs as well?"

"Oh yes. It's always good to have a clean back-up position when dealing with babies. That way when one messes one up, you've got some place else to put it." Guinan glanced over at Beverly who looked a little overwhelmed. "Can't believe it's coming so soon, eh?"

"I know. There are moments when I feel like it's all some elaborate holodeck dream. I can't imagine myself becoming a _mother to twins_ in two months. Especially at my age."

"Well, between all of us, we've got centuries worth of experience to help you, Beverly. And we are taking care of everything that we can for you where we can. Right now, all you have to do is pick which mobiles you want - I recommend the ones with some sort of starships if you want to keep peace with your husband - pick which color schemes you'd like for when it comes to the linens you've got every color and print sitting in a pile in the other room, and then decide which of your twins wears the red admiral uniform onesies, and which one wears the blue. We'll load a bunch of them into the dressers for you." Guinan looked around. "Maybe we should have had a closet built into this room. I don't think that those dressers are big enough."

"They'll do," Mildred announced from the doorway even as she was pretending to ignore Guinan's bright orange outfit. It was the wildest thing that she'd worn in weeks.

"Oh?" was all that Guinan said.

"I'm having one of the tall oak cupboards that's in storage at the stables washed down, and then beamed over here. We'll put the non-clothing essentials in it. And then, I've turned that office that's six doors south of here into the baby's overflow storage area." She handed Beverly a padd. "Don't worry about the thank you notes. Commander S'Rock and Jean-Luc have that covered. All that you'll have to do is just sign them when they are ready." She thought for a moment. "Oh, I am having two sets of all the baby essentials being sent over to your office at Starfleet Medical, as well as to Jean-Luc's office. There will be cribs, strollers, extra clothing, etc., at both places. That way you won't have to lug stuff back and forth."

"That's a good idea," Guinan observed.

"Believe it or not, it was Lwaxana's," Mildred laughed.

"Mildred, you don't have to rush to get everything done all at once," Beverly chided, even as she sat down in Mildred's shower gift, an old and very comfortable oak rocker that had just materialized by a crib.

"Actually, I'd rather be ready ahead of time than behind the time," Mildred answered, sending a knowing look in Guinan's direction. Both ladies believed that the babies were coming sooner rather than later.

Beverly stopped her rocking movement. "Did you just tell me that _Jean-Luc_ is writing thank you notes?"

"I got him to volunteer," Guinan sweetly remarked.

Beverly decided that it was wiser not to ask Guinan just exactly how. She'd grill her husband later on…


	7. Chapter 7:Barbecues and Beds

_**A.N.: **__Some people have asked: What's 'near' beer. It is as the name suggests. Basically it is a very low alcohol or non-alcoholic beer depending upon the country or the brewer. It was first called 'near' beer around 1917. It eventually became common in the US because of the prohibition and then later because of the so-called 'dry' states where alcohol was illegal. In my stories I'm perceiving it as bottled synthale since I am holding the view that most of the cadets at the Academy are not old enough to be legally drinking anything with an alcoholic content__**. **At least not officially drinking anything with alcohol in it._

_One might point out that at times, Jean-Luc Picard has served Wesley champagne or wine on certain memorable occasions. Though you could suppose that Wesley might be drinking wine when he goes to dinner at Picard House and you might be right. However, none of these incidents occurred on Academy grounds**. **The French attitude toward serving alcoholic beverages to their children is quite liberal compared to US norms. I have also pretty much shown that at formal functions Wesley is drinking non-alcoholic beverages regardless of where the function is being held. _

_**De-Tached: Story 4: Life with Beverly**_

_**Chapter 7: Barbecues and Beds**_

**=/\= ='/\'= =/\=**

"Data, what did you say?" For Geordi was utterly shocked by the words that Data had just cursed.

"Did I not correctly use that Klingon colloquialism? Is this situation not suitable for the use of such curse words?"

Geordi had to think about it for a moment. "Yes, considering the situation, I guess it was apropos." The Chief Engineer of the _Enterprise_ picked up the printed-on-tissue paper schematic and glanced around, trying to make sense of all of the nuts, bolts, rods, widgets, and other miscellanea. He could take apart and then re-build a galaxy class warp engine without having to refer to a single spec. _But put together a twin baby stroller that could convert to a changing table? It was beyond his ken._

_And considering the fact that Data had just accurately cursed in Klingonese, maybe it was beyond the android's skills too._

Geordi considered how he had gotten into this situation. Admiral Picard was throwing a barbecue for the _Enterprise_ officers this evening. But the admiral had also asked if Geordi and Data could come a little early and do him a favor or two.

All the admiral said was, "Geordi and Data, could you put together a stroller that we got at the shower? It's in the baby storage room that's directly opposite the elevator on the third floor.

"Of course, admiral," Data politely agreed. "I am sure that it will take Geordi and I only a few minutes to do so."

Those fateful words had been uttered more than an hour ago.

And so here they sat on the baby blue star patterned carpet in the storage room. Geordi considered that every engineer, no matter how good they were, would eventually meet their _beta noir. _ This stroller of the damned was his. At first, Geordi was surprised that the baby stroller which was their objective, did not have holographic instructions. Eventually they found a very thin piece of tissue with some sort of diagrams on it. The language was one that the Universal translator could not translate. Even Mr. Data did not recognize it.

But, being skilled engineers and scientists with multiple PhD's after their names, they erroneously believed that they could figure it out by themselves. After all, they were the ones that kept the _Enterprise_ flying. _How tough could assembling a baby stroller be?_

"Want a beer?" Wesley asked from the doorway, hiding his amusement at the expression on Geordi's face as he lolled against the doorjamb.

"Wesley, am I glad to see you!" Geordi looked up, grinned and then greeted his friend with enthusiasm.

"As am I," Data added, standing to take the bottle of near beer from Wesley's hand to hand it over to the seated Geordi.

Geordi glanced down at the many parts spread about. "Can you give us a hand?" Geordi too-innocently asked.

"Oh no, you're not going to drag me in there to help you," Wesley knowingly replied. "I assembled all the new furniture and equipment that is in the nursery. The next time I put together a piece of baby equipment will be when I am married and it is for my own kid. Hopefully that will be a few years from now." Wesley took a sip out of his bottle, still laughing. "Mom talked you into doing this, didn't she?"

"Actually, Wesley, it was your step-father who requested our assistance," Geordi admitted.

Wesley nodded. "Jean-Luc must have tried to do it himself. He must be getting desperate if he cons you into trying to build whatever this is."

Geordi handed to Data who then handed over to Wesley the tissue paper schematics.

"The Universal translator doesn't know the language." Geordi added as he tried to keep his exasperation from showing.

Wesley put down his bottle of near beer and studied the schematic. "My best guess is that it's some sort of sub-dialect from one of the Ferenginar colony worlds. Written in glyphs."

"But even an incompetent designer should be able to at least draw what the damn thing should look like!" Geordi complained.

"By Kahless' ass!" Data exclaimed as he attempted to unsuccessfully shove two pieces that were supposed to fit together that did not fit together.

"Mr. Data, is that you cursing?" a very cheerful voice called out from the hallway. "You need to practice." Deanna stood there, with her sapphire and amethyst flirty skirt floating around her ankles in an attractive swirling pattern. She kissed Wesley's cheek before she stepped around the cadet to scrutinize what Mr. Data and Geordi were doing on the floor.

"Greetings, Counselor. I am attempting to insert some of the more colorful colloquialisms stored in my memory banks into my speech processors," Data explained.

"And have you been successful?" Deanna innocently asked.

"No!" and "Yes," the chief engineer and the android said simultaneously.

"Well, you'll just have to keep practicing around me, Data." Deanna picked up a large, opaque rectangular plastic container. "Whatever it is came in this box?" she inquired as she looked at the picture on the outside of the box. In no way, shape, or form did that picture resemble whatever parts it was that Geordi and Data were playing around with on the floor.

"Yes, Deanna," Data dutifully answered.

"Well then, why don't you just find an industrial replicator somewhere and duplicate it from this picture." Her foot kicked one of the plastic pipes piled next to Data. Data dutifully noted the way it rolled, its speed and the number of revolutions per second. Deanna didn't say a word as she watched the feasibility of this action dawn on Geordi's always expressive face.

"What should we do with these pieces?" Mr. Data inquired.

"Phaser the evidence," Wesley suggested.

"Or toss it into the recycler in the kitchen," Deanna recommended.

Geordi stood. "Agreed. Come on, guys, let's go get this done."

"We can beam over to my science lab," Wesley suggested, "and use the replicators there."

**=/\= ='/\'= =/\=**

Will Riker was really, thoroughly enjoying himself. He was actually barbecuing on a real, old-fashioned propane gas and charcoal grill - just like he used to do in Alaska. Jean-Luc's chef had found the large grill in storage and had had it refurbished. Chicken, ribs and steaks were being expertly barbecued. And Will was getting a chance to show off skills that he'd acquired as a teenager. He did not burn a single piece of food though the blue 'Kiss the Chef' apron that he was wearing over a blue plaid shirt and jeans, did get rather spattered with his secret barbecue sauce. The apron had been Beverly's little joke.

Even Jean-Luc was impressed by Will's culinary skill. For a long time, the former captain of the _Enterprise _thought that Will's opinion of his cooking skills was somewhat embellished. Ludvig had offered to do the outdoor cooking, but once Will took over, Ludvig was perfectly happy to let this new captain do the honors. Though Ludvig did provide all the side dishes including German potato salad, Vulcan coleslaw, Risian baked beans, and southern-style spoon bread. And of course, he also supplied a substantial assortment of cakes, cookies and ices of which the majority were chocolate, as well as the _de rigueur _variety of healthy fruit and nuts.

Jean-Luc wandered about, making sure that everyone was comfortable. Normally, he was not a 'barbecue' sort of person. But when Beverly had suggested such an informal meal for their reunion, it had seemed appropriate at the time. He approved of any activity that would put Beverly in a 'relaxed' mood.

This was the first time that all the senior officers from the _Enterprise_ were together again informally, since the admirals had been promoted and had left the ship to go on their honeymoon. And Jean-Luc found that he had really missed his friends these past few months - and their counsel. Talking via sub-space just didn't cut it. He also realized how unusual it was for a captain to have a group of such remarkable officers under his command for so many years. He had chosen very well, all those years ago. And in his own way, he still was grateful to Admiral Winston Holt Wiley for permitting him to make his own choices.

It was Kate Pulaski who brought up the issues about the Hospital Starships in their conversation. Kate was there because Beverly had invited her out of respect and deference to Will Riker. Jean-Luc felt that not saying a word was the wisest course once he'd learned of his wife's invitation to his medical archenemy - though he was appreciative of her concern and support when it came to his wife's delicate condition. Beverly however found it difficult to control her cackle at the expression on Jean-Luc's face when he'd learned of Kate's invitation and her ready acceptance.

They were all seated on comfortable turquoise, absinthe green and white upholstered garden chairs or sofas surrounding a fire pit on the patio under a weather bubble. They were reminiscing and telling tall tales too. Pitchers of blue ale, bottles of wine, and pitchers of ice tea were scattered about on low glass side tables.

"What do you think, Will?" Kate asked as she briefly explained the situation.

"What's the point in having a hospital ship if it gets destroyed in its first battle because the captain wasn't competent in either defense or offense?" Will countered.

Beverly closed her eyelids and slowly nodded, understanding and accepting of Will's point of view. "It's just that I thought that a medical doctor as a ship's captain would have a better grasp of the needs of a ship focused on being a hospital in space."

The debate continued.

"Why not both?" Data politely queried.

"That's what we've been debating," Kate sniped back.

"You misunderstood my question, Doctor Pulaski," Data rather politely but firmly replied.

There was no obvious way that Kate could accuse Mr. Data of being annoyed with her. But she suspected it. "What, Mr. _Da_-tah?" She deliberately mispronounced his name for the very first time this evening.

Geordi tried not to grin too much.

Data continued as if he had not noticed the doctor's mispronunciation of his name, though he did file it away for further analyses. He inspected the lady in her bright green blouse and slacks before he spoke. "Would not having a ship's captain whose primary function is as a command officer, and secondary function be that of a medical doctor be feasible?" He noticed that Beverly was paying close attention to him, so he spoke directly to her. "My analysis of the situation, Beverly (the android said her first name with a miniscule hesitation as if he still found it difficult to become accustomed to the use of it), is that the captain does not have to be the CMO. You require a captain who is experienced in the complexities of the medical necessities of hospitals, catastrophes and research. Therefore is it not possible to find a Starfleet officer who can meet these criteria without having to be both a captain and a CMO?"

"You mean a Starfleet command officer who just so happens to have a medical degree?" Beverly eagerly focused on the point that Data was making.

"Even if the officer does not have that much command experience, you have twenty months to train such an officer, do you not?" Data considered other possibilities. "Right now there are one hundred and twenty-six captains in Starfleet who meet these requirements. If you expand the criteria to include captains who have a medical science degree rather than a practicing medical degree, that number increases to four hundred and eight. And then there are the command trained commanders who meet also meet these requirements. That would give you an additional pool of six hundred and two candidates."

Jean-Luc muttered under his breath, "I know I am going to regret saying this…" His loving spouse heard him anyway.

"Behave," Beverly warned. Beverly swatted his thigh since it was pressed to her own as they sat nestled together on the only loveseat. And she still could feel his continuing annoyance over the presence of Kate Pulaski. "I _like_ Kate," she added, as if to irritate him some more.

In a louder voice, Jean-Luc reluctantly suggested in his best, dispassionate Starfleet command officer's voice, "The CMO could be promoted to the rank of a commodore. That way, if there is a disagreement between the ship's captain and the CMO, there would be a clear chain of command for decisions."

"Jean-Luc, you want to promote me?" Kate teased, delighted by and taking full advantage of this situation.

"What I want and what is best for Starfleet are two different things," Jean-Luc retorted hiding his irritation that had threatened to surface once again during this really enjoyable evening - with one exception.

Riker put down his beer stein. "Beverly, what I think that you're really trying to tell me is that I am about to lose one of the two best CMO's that the _Enterprise_ has ever had."

"Not officially, Will," Kate intervened. "I haven't made up my mind as to whether or not I'll accept the posting to the _Galen. _I am not so sure that I want to spend my _golden_ years bossing around underlings on a hospital starship."

Jean-Luc nobly refrained from retorting.

"Will, if Kate does accept the position, I promise you that you will have your choice of CMOs. Though, to be honest, I would recommend Doctor Selar for the position. She's earned it." Beverly had not anticipated informing Will about Kate's likely promotion at this barbecue, but once Kate had revealed the possibility, she was going to do her best to keep Captain Riker appeased. And the _Enterprise_ staffed with the best doctor that she could find.

"And Doctor Selar would be a good continuing source for '_Vulcan_' ale," Deanna just had to add as she watched Will pour his third glass of ale during the evening.

Will scowled at Deanna. For some reason, just about everything that she had done or said during this shore leave, annoyed him. And then when you considered her mother and all of Lwaxana's continuing implied threats, he was not a happy man. Matters weren't helped by the fact that Reg Barclay was sitting by Deanna's side, adoring her every word or glance with his ever-soulful, puppy-dog look. And instead of trying to discourage Reg, Deanna actually seemed to be encouraging the lieutenant commander. Certainly, she was overtly flirting with him. _And she was most definitely not flirting with himself._ The sly little look that she sent his way did not pacify his feelings in the slightest. And every little look and every simple syllable that was not intended for him, annoyed the hell out of him. And Will Riker did not like feeling like this one little bit._ Uncertain…_

Beverly covered up her yawn. And then she yawned again before she reluctantly stood. She ruefully smiled. "Much as I would welcome continuing our conversations, unfortunately my babies have a different agenda for the remainder of this evening." She pretended not to notice Kate Pulaski discretely scanning her, then nodding to her as if all the readings were normal. "I will bid you all good night. It's been really good to see all of you. And please, whenever you are on Earth, think of us as your home away from the _Enterprise." _She gestured about. "I think that you can tell that we have the room. Thank you for coming." Will Riker stood and then embraced Beverly, kissing her lightly on the lips. His hands lingered on her silk clad shoulders as if to reassure himself that she was really there. She patted his chest. "But you don't have to leave on my account. Please, stay and keep Jean-Luc out of trouble." She kissed Will back and then stepped out of his arms. "Rumor has it that Wesley has set up some poker tables somewhere." Beverly walked over to each one of her friends, bidding them good night. And every one, including Data, touched her abdomen. Worf leaned over and whispered a Klingon blessing to the babies. He wasn't embarrassed by this even as Beverly reached up to kiss his cheek.

Then Beverly walked back over to Jean-Luc. "Stay, my darling. I still can put myself to bed all by my lonesome."

"But it's so much more fun when I assist you," Jean-Luc just had to whisper.

By the firelight, Deanna's smile positively glowed, as she sensed the peaceful accord between husband, wife and the babies-to-be. She was so pleased that Jean-Luc and Beverly were finally achieving that which they truly deserved - happiness. And a family. It had been a very long time in coming.

Will put his arm about Beverly's waist, momentarily distracted by the way she looked in her turquoise tunic and matching slacks. He had always been appreciative her beauty - both internal and external. And for a moment, he was very envious of Jean-Luc. "I need to go wash up. Would you kindly guide me along your way if you can find your way through this _castle_?" There was a twinkle in Will's eye that Beverly did not notice.

"Of course, Will. If we get lost I can always ask the house computer where we are." Still laughing, she led him to the family wing elevator.

"Now!" Geordi quickly announced as the entire group, led by Jean-Luc, walked up the three flights of stairs to the floor where the bedroom suites were located. Will joined them when they reached the third floor landing.

"_Merde!" _was a curse most clearly heard coming from the master suite. Followed by, "What the f…"

Jean-Luc moved to the doorway and motioned for their friends to join him.

"Are we not to supposed to say _'Surprise!'_?" Data inquired as they all entered the room.

Beverly acted as if she had not heard any of them enter the suite. For Beverly's attention was focused on her large bed. She was staring at her bed as if it were a foreign, unidentifiable object. For it really didn't look like her bed any more. Instead, exactly one half of it was covered with a familiar black and yellow box grid which extended over the pillows and halfway up the wall.

She turned to face all of her friends. "What is this?" She looked as puzzled as she sounded.

Jean-Luc walked over to stand behind her in order to place his arms around her the smallest circumference of her waist, which at this point in her pregnancy was directly under her breasts. He relished touching her for a moment.

"I thought of it, but Geordi, Reg, Wesley and Mr. Data created and implemented it." Jean-Luc gave her a quick squeeze. "They did it this afternoon before I sent Geordi and Mr. Data to try and assemble that accursed stroller." He had a sneaking suspicion as to what they actually did with the original stroller parts and box after he had seen the perfect, functioning, finished project.

"You could say that it is your baby shower gift from all of your friends on the _Enterprise,"_ Will added, readily displaying his best and most charming big, big grin.

Jean-Luc nodded at Wesley.

"Mom, it's a personal hologrid," Wesley explained. He couldn't control his grinning either.

"What?" Beverly was trying to grasp it's function.

Geordi enlightened Beverly. "Beverly, you can control how you sleep now - specifically the gravity. Half-grav, two-thirds-grav… whatever makes you feel comfortable."

"After you had granted me permission to check your medical records the other day, I consulted with Dr. Bolt and read your health reports from when you went to Mars," Kate explained as she stepped closer to Beverly. "You did rest better in two-thirds-grav. So I recommended that your engineers should give it a go. You can set the controls to give you any gravity setting, though I don't think I'd go less than half-grav. I'm not sure what partial low-grav or weightless settings on a daily basis would have on the babies."

Beverly turned around in her husband's dark blue silk clad arms, and mutely asked him a question face to face. "But…"

Somehow, besides Jean-Luc, Mr. Data seemed to know what her silent question was. And he answered it. "If Jean-Luc wishes to join you, the controls on his side of the bed will expand the hologrid to encompass the entire bed. You can change the shape, texture, density and temperature settings if you wish it. We have also designed a feature where you can create additional bedding for inside the hologrid, or you can drag your current blankets into the hologrid itself. You can do whichever you would prefer."

Beverly and Jean-Luc walked over to her side of the bed. She touched it. "When did you do this?"

"Before we finished creating your baby stroller, we put this together for you. Wesley has all the schematics, so if, after the _Enterprise_ leaves and there is a problem, Wesley can correct it," Geordi explained.

"But holodeck technology in a private residence?" Beverly shook her head. Considering the enormous use of power not to mention other physical drawbacks, she was truly surprised by its presence in her house.

"I convinced Starfleet Medical that this experimental idea might be a good idea for difficult or high-risk pregnancies." Kate came over to stand next to them. "You're the one who is going to be the first to test its feasibility."

"And _I_ didn't hear about this experiment?" Beverly could only muse. "You must _really _know what strings to pull."

"Actually, I know where all the bodies are buried. And I didn't even need to pay off Millie to confess them to me. For I've had to deal with Starfleet Medical a lot longer than you have, Beverly. And I am pretty good at it. Besides, it was Will Riker, Dr. Selar and a certain member of the Picard family who shall remain nameless providing certain potent potables as bribes, that eased this experimental project along," Kate glibly explained.

Deanna added, "Just because women have spent their last trimester being uncomfortable for the last few millennia doesn't mean that women should continue having to endure being miserable for tradition's sake." She hugged Beverly. "Just think, you might be the first woman in history that gets a comfortable night's sleep in her last trimester on either Earth - or Betazed."

Kate added, "You will be closely monitored, Beverly, just in case there are any unexpected adverse effects to sleeping in lower gravity. Dr. Bolt wants you to come see her every morning after you wake up, for the next few weeks. If things go as expected, then you'll be able to take your own readings at home on a daily basis, after that."

Beverly didn't care for that stipulation, but when you considered the possibility of getting a comfortable night's sleep, she was willing to tolerate it.

She turned around and faced all of her friends, her husband and her son. "I can't thank you enough. You are all so dear to me." A few tears began to form. Then both Jean-Luc and Kate tried to simultaneously attempt to hug her. It was Wesley who came to his mother's rescue.

Then Kate took the hint and loudly announced, "Time to let Beverly get some rest. And for all of us to play poker and fleece our favorite admiral. Judging by the size of his house, he can afford the fleecing." She jerked her head toward the doorway.

Worf stepped up to Beverly, hugged her, then announced, "Beverly, I will guard the poker game and make sure that no one gets too loud or too drunk." For some reason he eyed Will Riker as he said that. Then he kissed Beverly's cheek and left the room.

"I'll be down in a little while," Jean-Luc added as he still held on to Beverly.

"I've set up the tables under the weather bubble. I put it on the 'silent' setting. Nothing that we say in it will be heard outside of it," Wesley explained as he happily escorted Kate Pulaski away from his mother and stepfather.

Soon, after everyone had personally wished Beverly a good night, Jean-Luc was able to dry her tears, and kiss her soundly.

"Will we be able to keep the hologrid after the babies are born," Beverly innocently asked.

"I don't see why not," Jean-Luc answered before he caught the real intent behind Beverly's seemingly-innocent question. And then he began to chuckle. "Making love in zero gravity? I haven't done that since my first deep space mission when I was a cadet. It was not exactly a successful tryst. And I won't tell you how many decades ago that was!"

"Jack tried to convince me to try it with him once. But I was always wary of certain elements about making love in zero gravity that seemed messy. I mean with everything floating about… Sweat, body parts, globules, etc…"

"I think that there are ways around that," Jean-Luc hastily added.

Beverly intuited what her husband meant. "Good. I am sure that if anyone knows how to do it…"

"…I'll ask Will Riker," he teased. "I am sure that Will has had more experience in this particular kind of tryst than I have had…"

"I suppose I could ask Deanna as well…"

He placed a slightly passionate kiss on his bride's lips. "I have always said that you were a lusty wench. Something to which we can look forward, in, say a few months from now after the twins are born, eh?" He got a sudden, vivid impression from her, of what he might consider doing to her tonight using the hologrid. Or maybe tomorrow, considering how tired she felt at the moment.

"Oh, _mon coeur_," he whispered as he hugged her as tightly as he dared. "I do love you so."

For a moment, she gazed into his eyes, finding herself marveling at just how lucky a woman she was that their hearts had finally found each other. "I love you. And thank you for thinking of me…"

"Always," he whispered.

She playfully shoved him away from her. "Now, don't you dare lose to Will. He'll be bragging about it for decades."

"Better Will than Kate," Jean-Luc mumbled under his breath as he placed a light kiss on her cheek.

"Go. I've got to check out all of these hologrid settings!" she teased before she kissed him back.

**=/\= ='/\'= =/\=**

"Admiral, I would love to look around your lovely garden. Walk with me," Dr. Pulaski ordered, as it was their turn to sit out a poker hand. The poker players were taking a break from the poker. Some were getting drinks or sandwiches. So far, neither Picard or Pulaski had bested the other. Will Riker had won the first few hands.

"Considering that it is night time, there is not that much to view, Doctor," Jean-Luc quietly observed, even as he joined Dr. Pulaski.

"You are always such a contrary man," Dr. Pulaski sniped back.

Jean-Luc motioned for her to lead the way.

A few moments later, they were walking along the terrace.

"Yes, Doctor?" Jean-Luc asked, trying not to appear impatient or ill-at-ease.

Kate found a marble bench overlooking an ornamental pond. Moon glade off the water was particularly lovely at this moment. She ignored it as she sat on the bench, motioning for Jean-Luc to join her. He did. He did stop for a moment to appreciate the fair scene.

"Stop fretting about Beverly, Jean-Luc. At least, stop doing it in her presence." He only frowned. Kate continued. "Keep an eye on her. Beverly was born on the moon, so her body might be inclined to tolerate lower gravities better than most. But just in case, pay attention to the babies' positions. Gravity does have its purpose, you know. As long as the body shifts are gradually downward, things should be okay. But it is possible if Beverly spends too much time in a low gravity setting, that the babies might move in other directions. That would not be so good for them at this stage in their development."

"Other directions?"

"Expanding out, sideways or up which are not normal positions at this late date in a pregnancy. Such positions could cause complications."

It took Jean-Luc a moment to grasp the situation. "What else?"

"Both Dr. Bolt as well as myself believe that Beverly is going to have the babies early. Her body seems to be preparing itself for birth about a month ahead of schedule."

"Is there nothing that you can do to forestall this?"

"Jean-Luc, sometimes the cure is worse than the ailment. The babies are already viable though if she gave birth tomorrow they would still have to be treated for being premature. So obviously, the longer that Beverly can carry the babies, the better it is for them."

"Is there anything that I can do, Kate?"

She made note of his use of her first name. This might have been the first time that he had actually said her first name to her face. But she wasn't going to make an issue of it at the moment for the man had far more important things on his mind. She also noted that when it came to the medical matters concerning his wife, he was implicitly trusting her. And trusting in her medical judgment as well.

"The basics, Jean-Luc. Keep her calm, well fed, rested, as comfortable as possible, etc. Norah's arranged to check on her daily. More often, if you think that she needs it. And until I have to leave, I'll come by daily as well, if only just to ask questions about the _Galen_. And to check up on her myself_._"

Jean-Luc cleared his throat. He didn't really want to say the words. But his honor dictated that he must. "Captain Pulaski, not that you need to heed my opinion, and as much as I would like to discourage you from abandoning Captain Riker and the _Enterprise,_ but after reviewing your records and personally observing your capabilities, I am forced to conclude that you are _the_ best choice possible as CMO for one of the hospital ships. And if you should choose to assume the captain's chair as well, I do not have the slightest doubt that you could admirably fulfill a captain's duties as well."

"Well, that was a mouth full." For a moment she seriously considered a sarcastic response. But then she decided that he didn't deserve such words from her, this time. "Thank you, Admiral. Believe it or not, I do respect your opinion - every now and then. And I will take your words under advisement. To tell you the truth, I still haven't made up my mind what I am gong to be doing - other than leaving the _Enterprise_, that is." She grinned and offered him her arm. Jean-Luc reluctantly took it. "Now Jean-Luc, let's go see if between the two of us we can't just wipe that smarmy grin off of Will Riker's poker face. As Mr. Data would say: Let's go clean his clock. That man is just too sure of himself…"

"For once, I agree with you, Kate."

**=/\= ='/\'= =/\=**

He could tell by the pattern of her breathing that she wasn't asleep when he entered their bedroom. Still, he was quiet as he undressed just in case his senses were in error. He didn't bother putting on pajamas before he slid onto his side of their bed. His shorts were sufficient for now.

"My great, big, beautiful, purple whale…" he murmured, as he nuzzled his wife's neck. "All mine…"

"What did you say?" she sleepily queried, as she turned toward his voice.

"Go back to sleep, _mon coeur,_" he instructed. "You need your rest."

"Uhmmmm," was her answer. Then she raised her head and gazed at her husband's face in spite of the low lighting. "Who won the game?"

"I didn't lose the house," he teased.

"Who won the game?" Her hand ventured forth to tickle her husband's ribs if he were not forthcoming.

He chuckled. "The wins were pretty evenly distributed all evening, until toward the end of the night. Then Deanna started playing the game like she'd grown up in New Vegas, and rode over every hand in sight. She won the last six hands, and then she took home the largest of the pots. She decimated Will. Not to mention the rest of us."

"Good for her," Beverly mumbled.

He considered a few things that he'd noticed over the past few days concerning Will and Deanna. "Is there something going on with Will? And Deanna? Something that I should know about?"

"What makes you think that there is anything going on?" Beverly said these words quite simply. And with a totally innocent sounding tone of voice.

By her very attitude, he knew better. "Perhaps I had better ask Mildred."

"If you can convince Mildred to tell you, then you deserve to know."

Jean-Luc knew when he'd hit one of Beverly's brick walls. So he decided to change the subject. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I've felt for quite a while now."

"Mind if I hold you?"

She rolled closer to her husband. "Not at all. I've set the hologrid at .80 G. And right now, I feel very comfortable. Though a bit lonely."

He eliminated the gap between then. Then was surprised that he could feel the gravity difference on his hands and arms, as he held Beverly. He fumbled about.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to get my side to match your side."

"Silly," she teased. With a louder voice, she ordered, "Computer, turn the hologrid on for the entire bed, .8 grav."

A second later, Jean-Luc felt the difference. "You played around with the controls, didn't you?"

"Of course I did. Wouldn't you?"

"You do have a point," he agreed as he slowly stroked his hands over his wife's ribs down to her hip and then back again, taking in the softness of her nightgown and the warmth of her silken flesh.

"I take it that you're not sleepy?" Beverly asked after a while, almost purring beneath his tender stroking.

"I am if you are," he countered, still continuing his gentle stroking over her body. "Otherwise I am perfectly content to get some sleep."

"Silly," she said again, before she pressed a kiss against his lips, lightly outlining them with her tongue.

"I thought you were tired." Their tongues touched.

"I took a nap," she stated even as she slowly slid her palm across her husband's chest and then down his side.

He pulled her closer, seemingly delighting in her roundness as well as in the lushness of her breasts.

She sensed where he was going and what he was planning on doing. And she stopped the descent of his hand. "No."

He raised his head. "What, _mon coeur?"_

"It's mine turn to pleasure you. We never got around to that this afternoon."

She found an effective way to silence his protests. He could only groan from the pleasure of her touch.

**The End **

**(for now) **

**to be continued in De-Tached, Story 5, Life With Beverly. **

**Which will be coming soon!**


End file.
